


Mind Games AKA "Acid Trip"

by kylarileiza



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, Paranormal, Story Is over ten years old and still unfinished, Unreliable Narrator, We're All Mad Here, What Was I Thinking?, attempt at mystery, someone called it an acid trip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 15:33:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 87,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15342903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylarileiza/pseuds/kylarileiza
Summary: What if someone was purposely trying to drive you to insanity? Even worse, what if they were succeeding? Danny needs to get a grip. AKA "Acid Trip"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yup. I'm the idiot claiming this nonsense. 
> 
> Older's A/N: Please enjoy the story. I do not own anything and I am not making any monetary profit. This story can be freely copied at will, written off of, posted to other sites, etc. My permission is not required. This is purely a fan story.
> 
> Warning: Weird, strange things. Implications of extreme crimes, and possible character(s) death.

Knitted brows, narrowed eyes, and a slight cock of the head signified that Jazz doubted how much truth was to be found in the words Sam had just spoken. Sam bit her lip in response and repeated herself a little more forcefully, but was careful to keep anger out of her voice. It would do them no good to fall into a fight.

"Nothing like this has ever happened before," Sam insisted and tore her gaze away from the older girl's searching one. Her gaze rested on the bed she stood to the right of. She couldn't help but think she had been better off challenging Jazz's scrutiny; on the bed, one of her best friends writhed about and whimpered, oblivious to the worried conversation spoken over his head. She gripped his hand tightly as though she was anchoring him to their life. She would be surprised at how true that analogy would come to be.

Tucker stood on the other side of the bed, his own eyes downcast as he studied their friend. He nodded and piped up, "Yeah, Jazz, believe me, if we knew what to do we'd do it." With a sad shake of his head, he continued, "But like Sam said, this has never happened. I don't get it." Lifting his head, he met Jazz's eyes, "He was fine and then—BAM!" Tucker punched his right fist into the palm of his left hand for emphasis. "Everything just went to...well y'know where."

Jazz's frown deepened as she tried to work things out aloud, "So this is completely new? Nothing even  _similar_  to this has happened?" Sam and Tucker both shook their heads. "We don't have any clue how to help?" Jazz asked keeping her voice even so the other two wouldn't be able to detect the panic she felt building within. Both shook their heads again. Tucker sighed defeatedly.

"No clue," he and Sam mumbled in unison.

"Oh great—great..." Jazz groaned, covering her forehead and eyes with her hand. Her mind was spinning and logical thoughts were having trouble forming. Sheer panic continued to build despite her best efforts to ward it off. Jazz peeked through her fingers at her younger brother.

Danny was on his bed completely oblivious to the rest of the world. Of course, Danny being oblivious wasn't what worried her—that was nothing new. It was the fact he was muttering incoherently to someone no one else could see. His eyes were squeezed painfully shut as though he was trying to make someone or something disappear. He was in obvious panic and was trying to toss and turn but with both his hands occupied that was a tad hard to do. Sam stood on the right side of the bed clutching his hand and Tucker stood to the left side squeezing his other hand. Jazz, standing at the foot of the bed, got a very clear view of what this resulted in. He shook very violently between his two friends and every now and then his feet would suddenly kick out in panic. The gnashing of teeth and occasional moan didn't exactly put Jazz or anyone else in the room at ease.

"I just don't understand," Jazz whispered more to herself than anyone as she stared helplessly at her brother.

Tucker picked up on her words and nodded. "Neither do we," he said aloud and Sam nodded as well.

Jazz sighed inwardly as she mulled over recent events. According to Tucker and Sam, they'd been at the movie theater when Danny had started acting up. Jazz wasn't sure what exactly had happened there but Tucker had sounded more than a little panicked when he'd called her and asked that she give them a ride home. Jazz hadn't realized just how serious the situation was until she asked Tucker why they didn't just walk back home. She shuddered remembering his reply. He didn't think Danny could. Jazz had sped all the way there. They had experienced a terrifying and pretty crazy ride back that had really driven home just how incapacitated her brother had become. She had been grateful that Sam and Tucker hadn't even mentioned a hospital. She had to wonder if they weren't curious as to why she hadn't brought it up.

Of course she'd thought about it. However, with her brother in his current state of mind, she doubted he could keep himself together—literally. She wasn't sure how amused the doctors would be if Danny fell through the hospital bed and landed in another room—or on another patient. Jazz also had doubts about her parents. If they found out Danny had accidentally become half ghost in some freakish accident—well, that could be either good or bad. They could be more than willing to help or use him to research other ghosts. There was the other way things could go- they could go absolutely nuts and in their frenzied happiness of discovering that their son was not only human, but  _also_  ghost—they might want to experiment on him. Since her parents hadn't really seemed to mention anything about half ghosts/half humans Jazz suspected that in their excitement they'd wind up doing the latter.

They'd mean well, of course, but everyone knows that sometimes the road paved with good intentions leads to hell. She was sure they'd eventually come to their senses and realize that he was still their  _son._  Jazz had no doubt about that. What she did doubt was that little period in between in which experiments and studies would, no doubt, take place. Who knew what would happen or what other accidents might occur. And what if the experiments were too much for the still human side of her brother? She didn't want him to wind up as a  _total_  ghost.

Sighing to herself again, she weighed her options. She definitely couldn't call her parents and they couldn't bring Danny to a hospital. It was as though they could do nothing but sit and watch. It was driving her crazy. If this "sickness," as she called it, kept up, they just might have to tell her parents. She pushed the thought aside, deciding that would be their last option if they couldn't think of anything else. Maybe he would even suddenly become better, which she was sure all of them were hoping would happen, like, within the next five minutes.

Jazz gave Sam and Tucker each a sideways glance. Both seemed to be attempting to pretend she wasn't in the room except for answering her occasional question. They had no idea that she was very much aware of her brother's paranormal abilities; both of the younger teens seemed on edge, Jazz was sure they were spinning their own tales of protest for if she were to suggest calling a doctor or her parents. Surely, they had figured out if she hadn't already she wasn't going to. It was a good thing they'd called  _her_  and not her parents. Sam, Danny, and Tucker were never that great at making up excuses. They were always so transparent and stuttered, made on the fly, it amazed Jazz how many people, especially, adults bought them with hardly a question or two asked. Her parents were so caught up in their own work and research perhaps they just didn't care so long as they stayed out of trouble. Jazz could always see right through them, though, and had awarded their efforts with many an odd stare and doubtful eyes.

Danny's incoherent ramblings and hysteria created thick tension in the air, making the other three hyper-sensitive to every move made and every glance cast. Such a huge secret that wasn't actually a secret added to the tense atmosphere. Jazz could've easily cut some of it away but she came up empty each time she tried to approach the subject. Being thought of as a snoop did not appeal to her and, besides that, her voice didn't seem to be working properly, as she was having trouble making it sound anything like her own. When she spoke it was in frightened, frail whispers. Right now she couldn't even seem to  _find_  her voice. Thoughts swarmed her, worry was trying to drown her, and the panic kept steadily building. If this kept up, she would be in her own bed with hysteria. As it was, just looking at her brother and thinking on their current predicament made her want to whimper right along with him.

Studying his friend's hand intently, Tucker chewed fervently on his botton lip and squeezed Danny's hand hoping his friend could draw comfort from that desperate squeeze. As if in response, Danny shuddered violently. Discouraged, Tucker sighed and exchanged a look with his raven haired friend. Right away, he knew Sam was thinking similar thoughts. He glanced up as Danny's older sister came to stand beside him. Another look was passed between Danny's friends and classmates, fully of worry.

Looking back down at Danny, Sam pondered what should be done next. She and Tucker were already beside themselves with worry and shock over Danny's state. It had all happened so unbelievable and unexplainably fast. He'd been perfectly okay as far as she could tell and then it was as if some rapid and cruelly debilitating disease had eaten up their friend before her eyes before she could even blink. Adding to the matter was she had no idea how to announce to his sister that he was actually partially a ghost and could therefore probably not receive the medical attention he so obviously needed. He was like a ticking time bomb and she could practically hear the countdown in her mind. Any moment he would just ghost right through the bed and she and Tucker would be left to explain. She could only hope that things were resolved before that bomb ticked out of time. She had mulled over dozens and dozens of ideas of how to get Jazz out of the picture, but had come up empty each time. Jazz wasn't just going to leave her brother after having witnessed everything she had up to this point. It was nothing short of miracle the older sibling hadn't demanded they take Danny straight to a hospital or make a frantic call to her parents.

Sam was unfamiliar with how sibling bonds, being an only child. She had always assumed that Jazz cared for her younger brother even if she didn't always show it and was often embarrassed by him. It made her wonder why Jazz hadn't brought up a hospital. Maybe she was so freaked out that her mind had blanked and she had forgotten hospitals existed. That didn't seem very Jazz-like at all but one could hope. Either way, it gave her and Tucker more time to think of a hopefully good excuse as to why Danny shouldn't go to a hospital whenever Jazz would bring it up which, Sam suspected, would be soon. Sam and her two companions were torn away from their thoughts at the sudden stillness from their bedridden friend.

Danny's eyes snapped wide open. His blue eyes found Tucker's light green ones and stared straight into them, almost as though looking beyond his friend's eyes and into a deeper area. Tucker jumped at the intensity and horror of the stare. He had thought he'd be filled with immense relief when his friend opened his eyes. Instead, terrified blue eyes drilled into his concerned ones. He could feel his own terror at the sight of his friend begin to creep into his expression. Danny stumbled through his hysteria, grounding out his friends name, "Tucker—Tuck?"

"I'm right here, Danny," Tucker said trying to hide the fear in his voice but failing to do so. He wanted to be strong, to assure his friend there was no need for the terrified look in his eyes. It took everything in him not to tear his gaze away from his friend, wanting to squeeze his own eyes shut and forget that he was here. Forget everything that had happened up to this point and go back to before any of this happened. He wanted to be home, studying for some dumb test. That sounded like fun compared to this.

"You are—yeah, you are. She said you'd leave—she said you wouldn't be here," Danny's voice was quiet as he spoke and tried to keep his focus on Tucker. It was apparent this was great effort on his part. " _She_  said that. You won't, will you? You'll stay, right?" The pleading was heartbreaking to listen to. Desperation was clear in his eyes but nothing could overshadow the terror that shone so brilliantly through the young halfa's eyes.

"Of course," Tucker assured him with wide eyes, nodding his head without even realizing it. "I'm not going anywhere." Slight relief washed over his friend, but he didn't look completely convinced.

"Who said that?" Sam wanted to know. Her voice caused Danny to tear his eyes away from Tucker, who was loathe to admit, but it filled him with relief to be free of those eyes. Danny turned somewhat so he could look at Sam.

"Sam?" he asked. Sam nodded suddenly able to understand why both Jazz and Tucker had paled considerably since Danny had opened his eyes. He looked downright petrified. "You won't leave either, right? She said..." Sam cut him off, shaking her head.

"No, no I won't leave but who—wait...you're not talking about..." she trailed off as Danny seemed to search the room behind her, his eyes roaming about wildly.

"Jazz," Danny's voice quivered. "She was right here—I just saw her. Did she leave?" If it was possible his deliria seemed to be heightening. "Where did she go?"

"She's beside me," Tucker said trying to make his voice as soothing as possible which, he realized, was quite a feat. Instead, it just came out as a pathetic squeak.

"Right here," Jazz spoke up confirming what Tucker had just said. Danny turned his head again, his eyes still wildly searching for his sister. In the process of turning, much to Tucker and Sam's horror, Danny's human form dissolved and was replaced by his ghost form. It happened so fast, it took them a second or two to register what had just happened. Danny was completely unaware and searched the area until he locked eyes with his sister. The green eyes were just as disturbing as the blue ones had been.

"Jazz, you won't leave either will you?" Danny's green eyes looked up at her in earnest. Expectancy shone through the terror that clouded his eyes.

"Of course not Danny," Jazz assured him as she gently ruffled his white hair. "I'm not going anywhere." He looked pleased with the responses he'd gotten.

"I told her she was wrong," he mumbled as his eyes slid shut again. "I said..." Danny's voice trailed off as he returned to his internal struggle. Jazz continued softly stoking her brother's hair as Sam and Tucker stared at Danny, understandably unnerved by his outburst. After awhile the two managed to rip their gazes away from Danny and stare at Jazz, awkward silence hung in the air between the three.

Tucker and Sam exchanged a bewildered glance at Jazz's seemingly calm composure at the sight of her brother fazing into another being. Jazz glanced up and caught their bewildered looks. "What?" she asked, honestly unsure of the strange looks she was receiving.

"Uhm...well..." Tucker stumbled over his words, at a loss as to what he should say. "This," he used his free hand to wave at Danny who was still in ghost form. "Aren't you a little  _shocked_?"

"Huh?" Jazz's hand paused atop her brother's head as she stared at Tucker confused. "Oh..." Jazz mouthed as realization dawned on her. During Danny's little outburst she'd gotten so wrapped up in concern, worry, and panic she'd completely forgotten that Tucker and Sam had no clue that she knew about Danny and his accident. Which she found odd since prior to Danny's outburst she'd just been thinking about that.  _Amazing how just a couple minutes or so of time can completely derail a person's train of thought,_ she mused to herself. Both her brother's friends were looking at her expectantly. Her fingers gently dashed across her brother's forehead before they found his hair again. She smiled kindly at the two.

"Don't worry," she assured them. "I already know."

Sam's eyes went wide and Tucker's mouth dropped.

"You...you—he told you?" Utter confusion and incomprehension had replaced the panic and worry that had been in Tucker's eyes seconds ago. Sam regarded Jazz warily.

"No," Jazz said, "he didn't tell me." She avoided eye contact with the other two.

"Then how? I don't get it," Tucker said and shook his head in puzzlement.

"Does he know you know?" Sam asked.

Jazz shook her head. "No," she admitted. "He didn't tell me and I didn't want to push him into it. I figured he'd let me know when he was ready."

Sam and Tucker both fixed Jazz with a look, wonderment and confusion filling their own faces.

"Wow," Tucker breathed. "We had no idea you knew. How'd you find out?"

"I saw him transform," Jazz told them honestly. "I knew something was up before, though. I mean you guys showing up and acting weirder than normal, every ghost device claiming Danny was a ghost...parts of his body disappearing." She gave them a look. "Not exactly discreet."

Tucker looked at Sam. "She brings up a good point."

Sam nodded. "So that explains why you haven't mentioned going to a hospital or calling your parents."

"Exactly," Jazz confirmed.

"Wow, this is a real relief," Tucker heaved a sigh of said relief.

"I just wish I knew what to do," Jazz lamented as she looked back to her brother. "Um, any suggestions at all?" Maybe now that it was all out in the open, the other two would allow her to be privy to any paranormal plans they might have been secretly hashing out together. Her hopes were crushed almost instantly.

Tucker pursed his lips, feeling more useless than he'd ever felt in his life. "I wish. Like I said, this has never happened before so we have no clue what's going on. All we do know is that for the past few days Danny's been seeing things. At first it was just some girl—then, apparently, he, uhm...started seeing other things. I mean, you saw some of it back in the car….." Tucker trailed off and shivered at the memory. The two girls both felt chills go down their spines at the recollection of their car ride home.

"What he said," Sam nodded her head towards Tucker.

"Well, from what you've told me and what I've seen, it's scary. I'm just sorry it happened in public." She shuddered. "We've already determined we can't go to a hospital," Jazz restated what they already knew hoping it might help trigger an idea in one of their minds, "and I'm kind of scared of how my parents would react," she mused aloud. "That could go good or bad and I don't want to chance the bad. If this continues going downhill, though..." she trailed off and sighed, defeated. "And I don't suppose you two know of any supernatural doctors?" Quiet murmurs assured Jazz that the other two were just as lost as she was. Silence settled over them again and despite much of the tension being shaken, a sadness and sense of desperation was shared by them, making the room feel like it was the whole world to each of the occupants.

A high pitched noise reverberated throughout the room minutes later causing them all to jump. Tucker let out a short scream. After a split second, Jazz placed the sound.

"It's just the phone," she exhaled. Glancing uncertainly between her brother and the door, she debated what to do. She didn't want to leave Danny's side just in case he woke up again. However, she'd be willing to be her next seven allowances on who was on the other end of the line. "That's probably Mom and Dad," she told the other two. "I should get it." She gave Danny a final look and headed out, stopping at the door frame and offering them some assurance. "Be right back," she promised. In actuality the phone was less than minutes away but it felt like forever as she ran to retrieve the source of all that noise. After snatching it and greeting the person on the other end, she hightailed it back to her brother's room. It was, unsurprisingly her mother.

Walking into the room, she continued the conversation she'd started. "We're doing  _great_ ," she said, hoping her mother wouldn't be able to sense how fake her cheerfulness was. "Oh, they're back from the movies, Mom," she said. "Yeah, they had a great time." She paused and bit her lip for a moment before making a quick recovery, "Um, Danny's in the shower right now." Another pause as her Mom questioned why Danny was showering so early in the evening. "I'm not really sure—from what I gather a soda managed to find its way on him—you know how klutzy he is and how Tucker has a knack for getting them into trouble. I'm surprised nothing else happened." Tucker shot her a glare.

"That isn't true," Tucker whispered, glancing at Sam. "Is it?" His friend rolled her eyes.

"Hey...uhm...Mom," Jazz began hesitantly. "Do, you-uh—have you or Dad ever seen or heard of a...half ghost person?"

Appalled, both Sam and Tucker nearly dropped Danny's hands. "What are you doing?" Sam hissed, trying to keep her voice down. Anger and shock were clear in her voice.

"Are you crazy?" Tucker whispered, his words full of sincerity.

Jazz shot each of them a desperate look and held up one finger as she listened intently to what her mother was saying. "Really?" Jazz laughed nervously. "Uhm, yeah I bet that would be interesting." She paused for a bit. "Yeah, sure you could learn a lot." She looked a bit pale. Sam stared at her curiously. Jazz let out a fake laugh again. "No—it was just something Danny and I were...debating." She paused. "Yeah—oh, that's great. Yes...mm-hmmm." Color started returning to her face and she looked more and more relieved with each passing second. "Oh, no, Danny and I will be fine," she promised. "You and Dad have fun." One last pause. "I love you, too. Bye."

"What was that about?" Sam questioned. Tucker took up glaring at Jazz again, unhappy with the words she'd spoken about him earlier over the phone.

"Good news and bad news," she said, cutting to the chase. "The bad being there's no way we're telling my parents anything. They're lunatics—at least when it comes to ghost stuff. Case closed," she said firmly, obviously not wanting to tell them what she'd been told over the phone.

"The good," Jazz went on uninterrupted, "is that my parents GOA meeting will be running late and afterwards they'll be going to see some weird movie with some of their friends which means," she glanced out the window noticing that the sun had just started setting, "they probably won't be back until around, like, eleven or so. Hopefully."

"GOA?" Tucker looked confused.

"Ghost Obsessors Anonymous," Jazz clarified.

"Well, it is good news—about your parents not coming home for awhile," Sam spoke up. "Because I have no idea how we'd explain this." She waved at Danny.

Tucker laughed bitterly. "We couldn't."

Danny let out a sudden shriek followed by another and another. Both his hands yanked free of his friends' grasps. He shot up in bed and clutched at his temples, fingernails that surely would have drawn blood had he been fully human at the moment. His teeth grinded together, trying to suppress another scream but failing to do so. "NO!" It echoed around the room, bouncing about the walls.

"Danny, it's okay," Sam tried to comfort her friend, reaching her hands out only to be swatted away. Danny continued shouting hysterically, the room seeming to drown in his cries.

"What the heck is going on with him?" Tucker shouted over Danny's delirious shrieks.

"How should I know?" Sam shouted back, trying to reach for him again and still having no luck.

"I thought you two had some weird psychic connection!" Tucker shouted in reply, annoyed.

"Well, obviously not!" she screamed in frustration.

"Shut up!" Jazz yelled, letting the phone clatter to the ground. She stood still, shocked, as she stared at Danny for a couple seconds unsure what to do. He was now flashing between his human and ghost form and was shouting incomprehensibly at someone. It also appeared as if he was trying to fight something as his arms and legs were flying in every which direction. Tucker and Sam kept trying to get him to be still him but each effort was rewarded with him recoiling and then slapping or kicking them away. Eyes were screwed tightly shut and he dripped sweat.

Unable to take the sight of her distressed brother, she sprang into action. Much to Sam and Tucker's astonishment, she leapt onto the bed and after a few moments of struggling with him, she managed to pin her brother's wild arms to his side. She wrapped her arms tightly around him as he continued shouting and struggling to get free.

"STOP IT, DANNY!" Jazz yelled over him as he continued to flail in her grip.

"NO—NO! LET ME GO!" He shrilled in anger and panic. " _LET GO!"_

"It's me,  _JAZZ_ ," she yelled into his ear, her grip still tight. His struggle lessened and her grip loosened. "It's me," she repeated. "Jazz—I'm right here."

" _Jazz_?" he whispered.

"Yes," she loosened her grip even more. "It's me," she repeated. Now, in human form, his ghost form flashing every minute or so, he lazily opened his eyes.

"Jazz?" he repeated. Jazz positioned herself so he could see her, but refused to let go of him completely fearing his arms might start flailing around again. She was sure she'd already have a couple bruises later.

"I'm right here," she reassured him.

"Jazz," he gave her a weak hug, eyes beginning to droop again. "I'm so sorry," he whispered before losing consciousness again. Jazz hugged him tightly.

"So am I," she mumbled into his hair though she had no clue what he was apologizing about. She knew what she was apologizing for, though. That he had to experience something like this.

Tucker stared open mouthed at the siblings. " _What was that?_  What's he sorry for?" Tucker demanded, looking as though he might just rip his hair out in frustration. Sam stared as well words refusing to form. She remained stockstill, trying to digest what had just taken place.

Jazz glanced up at Tucker. She still held Danny in a sisterly hug. She began gently rocking him back and forth hoping to calm him a little more as he was still mumbling incoherently to some unseen person. "I don't know," Jazz answered Tucker's question.

"UGH!" Tucker cried grabbing his head. "This is so frustrating! What DO we know! Nothing!" He paced the length of the bed in a frenzied panic. "Absolutely nothing. Except for some weird delusion he's been having—and, apparently, that's  _all_  that is! It's not a ghost- none of these devices have helped." He waved to some ghost devices the Fenton parents had made. Earlier he, Sam, and Jazz had tried them out to see if they could locate a ghost presence. They hadn't. "And he can't tell us," he waved to Danny. "This is horrible! We can't even help!"

"I know—we're all frustrated," Sam agreed, feeling like the last vestiges of their lives were slipping away, "But we need to try and remain calm."

Tucker looked at her slightly aghast. " _Calm?_  I'm calm—very calm. My best friend is going  _insane_! But, yes, I'm  _calm!_ " His outburst only left with him a glare from Sam.

"Sam has a point, Tucker," Jazz spoke up. Tucker turned, ready to go off on her as well. Jazz quickly continued, "I know you're upset—we all are. He's Sam's best friend also, remember? And he's my brother. But, us freaking out isn't going to help him," her voice was kind but firm.

Tucker took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He couldn't find fault with Jazz's logic. "Sorry Sam," he apologized. "It's just frustrating." Sam had a grimness about her but nodded to show she acknowledged and accepted her friend's apology.

"I know, I know," Jazz whispered at Tucker's last bit before looking back down at her brother desperately wishing she could read minds. Specifically her brother's.  _What's going on in there, Danny?_


	2. Chapter 2

Anxious to keep his unease and fear hidden, Danny could do no more than stare defiantly into the eyes of the one who had brought about all this misery. It was quite the mystery how the day had unraveled into such a disastrous mess. He remembered that the day had started out innocently enough and cringed at how horribly cliché that thought was. After all, every day started out with innocence and a sense of newness. People certainly did wake up in the morning planning for the day to go to pot by sundown. Not anyone to his knowledge enjoyed contemplating that it could be their last day, especially not right after they woke up. Most people were could barely think at all through their sleep clouded mind. Cliché or not, the point remained that the day had started out like every other day in his life. Even the stuff that he would have considered odd a few weeks prior had become fairly normal. He could recall the events leading up to this current moment with crystal clarity.

-  _Flashback-_

The cinema had been packed, with large crowds of people milling about the general area. Two big blockbuster movies were opening and a couple other popular movies had just recently opened a week or two before. The largest crowd was in front of the ticket booth, uneven lines formed by patrons anxious to get a ticket. It was outside and the fall weather was chilly, but not bitter, so light jackets and scarves adorned the many customers. Other, more organized and less budget conscious people, stood at the kiosk inside the lobby area, having purchased their tickets online. Being teens lent to being less organized and certainly on a strict budget controlled by their parents, Danny, Tucker, and Sam added to the large crowd outside purchasing tickets at the cinema booths.

Tucker could barely contain his excitement as their line slowly moved closer to the employees taking money in exchange for a seat in front of a large screen. "I've wanted to see this movie since I first heard it's name! It's gonna be sooo cool!"

Sam wasn't so sure and made no show of concealing her doubt. " _The Killer Chicken Embryo?_ " She gave Tucker an odd look, before bluntly saying what she felt about it. "Sounds boring to me. And stupid." She had been roped in to this by the guys. There had been another movie she would have preferred seeing, but wasn't quite at the stage in her life where she enjoyed sitting by herself through movies. Besides that, she enjoyed hanging out with her friends and it was the majority that ruled. Sometimes she did wish she had a female friend she was close to.

"You would think that," Tucker began defensively. "You gotta admit its original, though!"

"I fail to see how," Sam remained unconvinced.

"Uh, hello?!" Tucker exclaimed, exasperated. "Killer  _embryo!_ Sure, they've had killer chickens, dogs, cats, aliens, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, but  _embryos?!"_ He looked at Sam who had raised her eyebrows at his animated hand gestures and raised voice. Skepticism was still clear on her features and Tucker felt himself deflate a little before turning to their other friend, whom he knew he'd have an ally in. "Well, it  _is_  a good idea, right, Danny?" There was an awkward silence and Tucker frowned. "Danny?"

"Uh-uhm, yeah, what you said, Tuck," Danny answered distractedly. Both his friends turned their attention to him, the name of the movie forgotten. He was staring intently at something across the street. They both followed his gaze, trying to spot what was so captivating.

"What're you looking at, Danny?" Tucker questioned as he looked across the street. Everything looked pretty boring to him. Sam also stared across the street, confusion replacing her earlier skepticism. Her thoughts were similar to Tucker's—there was nothing strange, new, or remotely interesting on the other side of the street from the theater.

"I saw her," he whispered. "She's right there." His kept his vigil of the other side of the street not bothering to meet either of his friend's hard stares.

"Danny, is this the same chick you've been 'seeing' for the past two days?" Tucker asked, eyebrows knitted in doubt as he searched the other side of the street, still failing to see anything or anyone that could have caught his friend's attention.

"Oh, yes, Danny's stalker," Sam allowed a small smile, slightly amused.

"Yes, it is her and it's not funny," he shot Sam a sideways glare.

"I don't see her." Tucker sighed. "Are you sure you're not just, uhm," Tucker continued cautiously, not wanting to upset his friend, "imagining things?"

"No—no, I'm not!" Danny cried indignantly. "She's  _right_  there," he lowered his voice again. He pointed across the street in her general direction trying to be discreet. "How can you miss her?" Clear as day, she stood there, meeting his eyes every now and then and even offering a grin. He was at a loss as to why his two friends would be unable to see her. He was fairly certain she wasn't of the paranormal world.

Tucker and Sam exchanged looks. "Are you sure it's not a ghost?" Sam asked echoing his own inner thoughts.

Danny gave her another sideways look only, confusion and uncertainty obvious in his reply. "No, she looks like a regular person to me….."

Tucker had very quietly reached into his backpack and flicked on the ghost radar he always carried. "The radar isn't picking anything up," Tucker piped up, keeping his voice low. Even thought he hadn't pulled it from his bag, he still felt super conscious talking about ghosts or any paranormal activity within so many people's hearing. Luckily, all the fellow movie-goers were too wrapped up in their own worlds to pay any attention to the three. "But, uh, Danny—we don't see anything." A quick glance at Sam confirmed that she, like Tucker, could not see this person their friend spoke of.

Danny gave each of his friends a quick look to check if they were being truthful. He was met with honest, confused, and concerned looks. He frowned and returned his attention to the girl across the street. Dark, eerie violet eyes met his, framed with dark brown hair with a streak of blonde through her bangs. The eyes sparkled with mysterious mischief and a promise of things to come. A shy smile on her part was offered before looking away from him as if the stare had become too long and uncomfortable.

"Are you sure?" Danny asked and began to describe her. There were more people across the street, some having parked in that area and making their way to the theater or another nearby store. They did live in the nation of consumerism, after all. Whoever was out was either working or spending money. In this area, he was sure most were spending money.

"She sounds pretty." Tucker stated, then added wistfully, "Wish I  _could_  see her."

"She hasn't moved!" Danny cried, frustrated. Sam became exasperated and tried to ignore a couple of stares her friends were receiving from some others in line. She spun Danny around so she could look him in the eyes.

"Danny—what you've been pointing at," she explained slowly so he'd have time to digest what she was saying, "isn't a girl. You've been pointing at a  _stop sign_." It was true. Really, all that was over there were a few families, none of which had a girl or woman who remotely matched his description, and a group of guys off to the right of the stop sign, waiting to cross the street.

" _What?"_  Danny's eyes snapped back to where the girl had been standing. A disconcerted and cold feeling settled into the pit of his stomach as his jaw dropped. Sam was right—a stop sign stood in her place. Exactly where she had been not even two seconds ago. There even seemed to be less people than he had thought a few moments ago.

Tucker laughed. "Imagining pretty girls now, Danny? Talk about desperate," he teased, trying to make light of the situation. His friend looked genuinely upset. "Desperate Danny," he laughed good-naturedly, "Danny the Desperate!" Grateful that his friend was at least trying to put him at ease, Danny couldn't shake how bizarre that had been and his face turned a bright red. He couldn't deny that she was clearly no longer there and unless Sam and Tucker were in on some elaborate prank, he didn't think they were lying to him about not being able to see her. The line began to move forward, but only Sam noticed as she moved forward, but Danny still stared across the street in confusion and Tucker stared at his friend in concern. Sam rolled her eyes and reached behind her, gripping Tucker's should lightly since he was closer.

"Come one, line's moving forward." She actually wanted to be in the theater now, watching the movie, no matter how lame. Maybe it would ground Danny back to reality. She wasn't too worried about it. She believed it was probably a ghost and maybe Tucker just needed to tweak the radar. At any rate, she didn't want people passing them in line because they were just standing there. A few people behind them were looking annoyed and aggravated that the two boys hadn't moved.

Tucker nodded at Sam's touch, and grabbed Danny's elbow, yanking him forward and away from whatever he had seen. The line continued to move much more smoothly and neither of the three mentioned the odd event again, anxious to get their tickets and continue on with the day.

New tickets in hand and pockets a little lighter, the trio entered the main lobby and all the activity within it. They had come early so figured they had plenty of time to get refreshments before finding seats. They had quickly made their way to the refreshment area and found the shortest line, thankfully beating a large family to it. Three drinks and a large tub of popcorn later, they began heading towards their theater number.

"I'm so psyched!" Tucker began to ramble, again, about how great the movie was going to be at which Sam felt obligated to roll her eyes. He went on about it and took up trying to convince Sam of the originality of it but came to a halt after a couple minutes, realizing that Danny was remaining strangely quiet and not helping him at all. Danny had been excited about seeing the movie, too. Sam instantly realized what the problem was as Tucker trailed of and they both looked to their left and right before spinning around and checking behind them. Danny had stopped a few feet behind them, standing alert and wary in the middle of the hall, drink clutched tightly in one hand. "Uhm, Danny?" Tucker gave his friend an odd look. He and Sam backpedaled the few steps until they were standing close to their friend again.

Danny's attention was on an elderly woman that was resting on one of the benches placed near the restroom area. She must have been waiting for family or friends. An oxygen tank sat next to her and she had a phone flipped open, fingers pressing various buttons. Unnerved by the intense stare Danny was giving her, Tucker tried to draw his attention away from her. He was pretty sure his friend had seen an oxygen tank before and knew it was rude to stare. "What are you doing?" Tucker nudged his friend, trying to snap him out of his reverie.

"That's her," Danny whispered to his friends. Annoyance crept in Sam's features and Tucker looked put out.

" _What?!_ " Tucker kept his voice low but was obviously puzzled with a note of disappointment. "I thought you said she was pretty...and  _young!_ "

"She  _is_ ," Danny insisted, giving Tucker an odd look.

"Danny," Sam leaned towards her friend, her own voice low. "That 'girl' is a very old lady." She hoped the woman's hearing had gone to the wayside a while ago.

"Yeah," Tucker said agreeably. "She even has an oxygen tank with her! That isn't what I call young!"

" _What?!_ " Danny turned to Tucker, annoyed. "Are you  _sure_  you're looking at the same person as me?" There were quite a few people milling about the hall area, one movie having just let out and another had a line while the patrons waited for it to open.

Tucker nodded, also starting to become annoyed with their friend's odder than usual behavior. "The woman on the bench underneath the sign for some kiddie movie coming out in September, right?" There was a large sign above the elderly woman's head with 3D characters that grinned out at them. He took a breath before continuing, "She's sitting on the far right side of it near the entrance for Spiderman." None of them could recall which Spiderman it was and they supposed it didn't matter, there would always be plenty of Spiderman so long as people were willing to pay to see it.

"Yes and she," Danny started and looked away from Tucker, eyes landing back on the woman "...is an old woman," he finished, his voice barely audible. Face paling, his friends had to strain to hear his strangled whisper, "What?"

"Um, Danny, you sure you're feeling okay?" Sam asked, concerned. It was just now occurring to her that perhaps he was sick and running a high fever. Or maybe he had taken something and failed to inform them. That didn't seem very much like him, though.

"Um, y—yeah," Danny stuttered, uncertainly. "I, uh—I thought," he continued staring at the old lady before shaking his head. "Yeah—yeah, I'm fine," he assured his friends. She had thankfully remained oblivious to their attention and Danny let out a shaky sigh. Something must have been put in his drink. A glance at his two friends, though, told him that was probably a faulty theory. They both had large drinks, which Tucker was nursing and had seen nothing. He hadn't had this drink in the line outside the theater. He was at a loss and said nothing else.

Sam decided not to press the matter. However, they were near the bathrooms and she did have to go. "Okay, then," she looked at Danny doubtfully. "Well, since we're here, I gotta stop in real quick anyway," she glanced at Tucker and he nodded. She wanted to make sure he'd be okay alone with Danny, whose hallucination had just been taken to a whole new scary level. Thinking old women were young girls.  _Just great_ , she thought.  _Next, he'll be thinking_ _ **I'm**_   _an old lady._

"Yeah, ok," Danny mumbled, trying to hide the fact that he was still very much shaken up by the old lady. Sam handed off her drink to him and slipped into the bathroom. It would only take her a couple seconds and she just had to tinkle quickly. She cursed her small bladder. She really hadn't had the urge to go just five minutes ago.

Danny and Tucker were left standing awkwardly in the middle of the hall. Tucker debated going ahead to the theater, but decided against it. On the off chance, the theater was empty, he didn't want to risk going through some bizarre scene with his friend. He was beginning to regret even buying tickets as Danny was putting on a free, though totally unwanted, show. After a couple moments, a couple vacated a nearby bench when their friends exited the bathroom. "Hey, Danny, let's go wait for Sam on that bench," Tucker nodded towards the now empty bench. A silent nod and they went to sit and wait. Tucker glanced at Danny whose mind was clearly preoccupied. "Don't worry, Danny," he tried comforting his friend, "we'll figure it out."

"I don't know, Tuck," Danny shook his head, and averted his eyes to the carpet. "I know I'm not imagining her. It's like—I don't know," some hair fell into his eyes when he shook his head again, confused. He couldn't find the words to express to Tucker just how confident he was she wasn't a figment of his imagination. "But I guess as long as she's not harming anyone or anything..." he pushed the hair out of his eyes, unsure, looking at Tucker for some kind of confirmation and assurance.

Tucker nodded, giving the old lady a sideways glance. He had serious doubts that she  _could_  harm anyone, unless she was one of those crazy old ladies in one of those horror movies. They weren't in a horror movie or that's what Tucker thought now. He'd change those thoughts later. He considered that maybe Danny was truly losing his mind. It had been connected to the paranormal for some time now. Arguably, given time, that could drive someone insane, he figured.

Danny just couldn't figure it out. He  _knew_ he was seeing someone—and it  _wasn't_  some old, harmless woman...or a stop sign.  _Maybe I'm losing my mind,_  his thoughts reflecting Tucker's. It wasn't that hard of a conclusion to come to, after all. With school and his paranormal activities, it really wasn't that illogical to fathom. Stress was a pretty abundant part of his life and it wasn't the good kind.  _And I don't even have a job yet,_  he groaned inwardly.  _I can't wait to see how_ _ **that'll**_   _turn out._ Still, that was at least a good couple years away.  _If I make it through the next couple years._ It occurred to him that he was too young to be having such thoughts and he felt a shot of annoyance at himself. He was too young to give up on anything. He had to at least make it out of high school.

Tucker gave up his mulling and looked to the women's restroom. "Sam sure is taking awhile," Tucker complained, munching on some popcorn. In actuality Sam hadn't been gone longer than a couple minutes, but anything to get rid of this sudden tension that was in the air. Danny nodded and shifted in his seat before finally prying his eyes away from the ground. The sight that met them was nightmarish. A strangled gasp pushed through his throat and he felt his mouth go dry.

Just down the hallway, that girl was back and laughing maniacally as she dug her fingernails into a pale throat. Specifically Sam's! Danny cursed himself for believing the girl to be harmless. Sam was struggling in her grip, clawing at the fingers that were causing her pain but the mysterious girl had made her look like nothing more than a ragdoll in her vice grip.

" _ **Sam!"**_  Danny shouted, jumping up from the bench. Two drinks spiraled out of his hands and towards the carpet. One hit the floor, rolling slightly, the lid miraculously managing to stay on. The other drink hit Tucker's lap and the lid popped off spraying him with icy dark liquid.

"Gah!  _Danny?_!" Tucker squealed in surprise as he was splashed with soda. It had happened in a split second but he had tried to swat the drink away, only to succeed in dumping half their bucket of popcorn that he'd been holding. While trying to right the tub of popcorn, he lost the grip on his own drink, which hit the bench sideways and rolled across it before sailing to the carpet below. Halfway through its journey to the carpet, the lid popped and there was some soda spewing to be had before it hit the carpet with a ' _kerplunk!_ ' Tucker took in the mess and groaned, feeling his face heat up, and areas of his skin go cold at the contact with ice and cold soda. The employees were not going to be happy.

Danny had made a mad dash for Sam, arriving at his destination in seconds. Of course, the hall had other movie patrons about it and he had knocked a couple people aside in his hurry to help his friend. Needless to say, those people weren't exactly thrilled and happily yelled some cuss words at him and flipped him the bird before going about their merry way. He was lucky they weren't more aggressive. Danny did not seem to notice or care about the angry patrons, instead his only focus on the girl that was strangling his friend. Without much thought he hurled a fist at her, only to be easily blocked. He kicked and his foot was swatted away. He came at her faster and more furious only to have her block every move with one hand while keeping a firm grip around Sam's neck. Sam's face was turning a light shade of blue and her frantic fingers that had been frantically clawing at her attacker's hands were slowing.

"Let her go!" Danny cried becoming more upset with each missed punch and kick. He was a about to go ghost and give this crazy girl a real run for her money when he was spun around.

"Danny." Sam's voice was odd and she had this astonished expression on her face like she could not believe what she had just witnessed.

" _ **Sam?"**_  Danny looked at her, utterly confused. "But—but..." he glanced behind him at where Sam had just been limp and pale, unable to breathe oxygen. In their place was a...

"Danny, why are you attacking a  _movie standee?_ " Sam questioned, not at all amused by her friend's questionable antics and more than slightly alarmed.

"What was that?!" Tucker whispered fiercely at Danny, having already abandoned their very wet bench. Danny looked absolutely mortified. Other moviegoers had stopped to stare. Even the two he'd pushed out of the way had stopped to gape. Some were laughing, a couple looked intrigued, and the rest were just giving him odd looks. Another movie had let out and the halls were full again. One of the movies that had yet to start had an even longer line than when they had originally entered the hall.

"I—I," Danny whispered to his friends, voice shaking, aware of the many stares. "That girl—she was here—she came back. She was attacking you!" He looked at Sam desperately wishing she'd confirm what he was saying. She didn't look frazzled or anything like someone who had just been nearly choked to death.

Sam was taken aback. " _What?_  Danny, no one's attacked me. I was in the bathroom and I'm fine. I promise."

"Yeah," Tucker jumped in with a nod. "That was crazy. You just started attacking that movie display like it was some  _monster!"_ He shook his head. "And you made a mess on your way to do so." He looked over at the bench he'd been sitting on just seconds before. Danny followed his gaze. A couple employees were already surveying the mess and one shot him and infuriated glare while the other shot him a concerned and somewhat frightened look.

"Guys, I'm so sorry," Danny sighed miserably. He avoided eye contact and stared at the ground, ashamed. The carpet was a muted color with some designs he'd never noticed before. They were suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world. "I really thought—it looked so..."

Tucker patted his friend on the back. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure it was an honest mistake. I mean, not very many people  _purposely_  attack movie displays! Besides," he waved a hand, "it was a display for some stupid movie, anyway—it deserved a good beating!" Tucker tried his best to put his friend at ease, but a quick look at Sam showed just how concerned he was.

"Maybe we should skip the movie," Sam spoke up. "I don't think we're too welcome here."  _That and I'm not so sure about Danny—we should probably get him home before he starts attacking_ _ **people,**_ she thought but kept quiet. What if the movie standee and elderly lady had been reversed? Was there a chance her friend might have gone off on that woman as he had to the standee? She didn't voice her thoughts as Danny was clearly wishing the ground would swallow him up.

"I'm so..."

"Don't worry," Tucker cut Danny's apology off. "It's no biggie."

Danny gave Tucker a doubtful look. "I thought you really wanted to see this movie? I can always head home and you two can stay."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Sam was quick to shoot the idea down. That's all they needed—Danny walking home alone—what if he tried to attack moving cars on his way home? And she wasn't about to walk home alone with him—what if he attacked her? Tucker could always see this movie some other time. She sent a significant look at Tucker who caught on real quick.

Tucker grinned good-naturedly. "Nah, it's ok. I mean,  _chicken_  embryo? Sounds kind of dumb, huh? Now if it were  _human_ embryo then, yeah, I might be a little upset. But since it isn't, I'm not!" Danny smiled gratefully. Tucker turned to Sam, "We're going to stop in the bathroom," he motioned at his wet clothes, "try an' clean up a bit." He jerked his thumb at Danny. "Splash some cold water on him or something." He grinned.

Sam nodded. "Okay—I'll wait here. Just don't take too long." She was uneasy at this sudden role-reversal. Looking at her friends, though, they did need to clean up and Danny said he needed to use it now.  _These bathrooms are bad luck or something,_ she thought, but kept it to herself. It shouldn't take them too long.

"We won't, we're not girls," Tucker assured her before heading into the men's room with Danny. Once in there and away from all the gaping mouths and curious eyes, Danny felt more comfortable being open with his friend. It helped that the bathroom was surprisingly empty. Or so Danny thought.

"Tuck, I think I might really be losing my mind," Danny confided. Tucker glanced around a little confused, but shook his head and made sure his voice was low.

"You know," he began, turning the water on so he could start cleaning up, "I was beginning to think that too, but I'm sure it's nothing we can't figure out," he assured his friend as he wiped off his arms. They'd gotten a fair amount of soda splattered on them and it didn't feel very good. He had to scrub some areas it had already gotten sticky. After cleaning his arms up, he began blotting his clothes, hoping to at least feel a little drier. He glanced over at Danny who wore a forlorn expression on his face. "Don't worry," Tucker tried cheering him up. "I'm sure it has something to do with all that stuff in the basement, ya know what I mean? It's kind of weird this is only happening to  _you."_

"I guess," Danny nodded, unsure why Tucker was speaking in code. Danny sighed and found a urinal to relieve himself in while the other teen continued to swipe at himself with damp paper towels. After a few moments, Danny rejoined Tucker by the sink.

Tucker frowned at the damp paper towel in his hand before letting out a discouraged sigh and tossing it in the trash. He wouldn't exactly call his a successful cleanup, but it would have to do. At least he wasn't as sticky and he felt a little drier than before. He looked downwards, frown deepening.

"Maaan, it looks like I  _wet_  myself!" He shook his head, unhappy. There were so many people out there including other students that attended their school. That's all he needed, people starting rumors about him not being able to make it to the bathroom.

"I'm  _really_  sorry, Tuck," Danny began before Tucker waved a hand, cutting him off.

"Hey, I've already said don't worry 'bout it. It'll come off when Mom washes them, I'm sure. We just have to be sure not to run into anyone from school on our way out."

Danny slapped his forehead, realization dawning on him. " _Ugh_ , what if someone from school  _saw_  me?! I don't think I could live that down! 'The kid who attacked a movie standee.' Oh man, I'll be doomed popularity wise-I'll have to transfer schools!" Suddenly, Danny wasn't so sure he wanted to leave the bathroom. Maybe they could just lock themselves in or something. Until they were both too old to go back to high school. Well, he could dream, couldn't he?

It was Tucker's turn to slap his forehead. What was he thinking? He wasn't exactly helping the situation with Danny. In fact, he suspected, he was making it worse and even more embarrassing. "Don't worry, Danny," Tucker flashed his friend a comforting smile as he went into a stall, needing to do more than just pee. He continued to talk to Danny, hoping to get his friend's mind off school. "So, Danny, about this, uh…. _vision_  you keep having—you know, I've been thinking...maybe it's someone calling for help in some bizarre way. Or it could be some freakish warning—like a prophecy or something? There are really all kinds of possibilities when you stop and think..."

Danny splashed cold water on his face while Tucker rambled on about what his "vision" could possibly mean.  _More like "vision_ _ **s**_ ," Danny thought, emphasizing the "s." After all, he'd had more than one "vision" of that girl—only today had she started acting like a threat of some kind. Tucker was still using double speak as if others were in the bathroom, but Danny was positive it was empty save for them.

_What_ _ **is**_   _wrong with me?_ Danny thought, annoyed. The girl wasn't a threat—she hadn't even attacked Sam. He had—he had...Danny had been pushing the thought aside, but now he couldn't seem to escape it. Had he been imagining things?  _Maybe I'm just losing it._  The thought wasn't necessarily out of the question. It was a possibility—not one he liked, but it was there. He continued splashing his face as he got lost in thought. He stopped for a second and took a deep breath, realizing just how tired he suddenly was. When did he become so tired? He pushed that thought aside and tried to concentrate on the girl he had seen. Who was she, where had she come from and, most importantly, why. The questions pestered him but he could only find one answer within him.

_You should know because you imagined her into existence._ Danny shook his head and frowned.  _Wait—did I just think that?_  Sighing, his thoughts gave way to nothing but confusion. If he'd "imagined" her into existence why on earth would he imagine Sam being attacked by her?  _There's no way that could be my imagination._  Maybe it was what Tucker was talking about—a forewarning of some sort—that wasn't out of the question either.

Danny stopped suddenly. But if it were a warning...did that mean Sam was going to be attacked? What if she was being assaulted  _right now_? He began to panic—he hadn't even thought of that!

"Tuck, we need to," Danny quickly scrubbed his face dry with a paper towel and looked up into the mirror, "check on— _Tucker?!_ " The reflection he found behind him was more upsetting than he could have ever imagined.

Dark violet eyes met his in the mirror. Tucker was no longer in the stall, but she now held him in front of her, he remained perfectly still. Tucker knew if he were to move, he'd meet an awful fate for against his throat, held with a steady hand, was a giant, shiny butcher knife.

Fear flooded every inch of him as Danny easily grasped how delicate the situation was. With just one smooth motion, those dark eyes could end the life of his best friend. "Please leave him alone," Danny pleaded quietly, not wanting to be too loud or shock the girl in any way possible. One startled movement and that knife could be lodged in Tucker's throat.  _When had Tuck stopped talking?_  The thought fleeted across his mind but vanished as soon as it appeared.

The eerie eyes met his in the mirror and with her free hand she signaled for him to turn around. Slowly and carefully he turned. Numbness and disbelief filled him that smooth motion he had been so hoping to prevent happened. Without a blink, and eyes still locked on his, the girl calmly slit his friend's throat. The body dropped to the ground as though he was nothing more than a cigarette that needed to be stomped out. Eyes widening, all the thoughts in Danny's head ground to a thought as he tried to process what had just happened. His whole mind desperately tried to refuse to believe what had just happened. It had to be fake, he—no, Tucker.

An innocent look and small smile were all that remained on the girl's face. Danny could do nothing but stare helplessly at his friend's limp and lifeless body, comprehension slowly seeping into him. He tore his eyes away from Tucker and turned a fiery and indignant look onto the silent killer that stood before him, showing no signs of remorse.

"You—you..." Danny suddenly lost any and all logic he'd had and lunged at her, an angry holler resounding throughout the restroom.

She dodged a couple punches before staggering backwards a couple feet when Danny landed a blow. Grabbing one of her arms, he dug his nails into her flesh, drawing blood. She let out a short scream before breaking free of his grip. She stumbled backwards into the stall and slammed the door shut, locking herself in.

Danny, blinded by shock and anger, forgot he could just go  _through_  the door. Instead, with adrenaline pumping, he threw all his body weight at it, forcefully banging it open on the first try. He was about to land another angry punch on her when someone suddenly yanked him out of the stall.

" _ **Danny?!"**_

Danny jerked his hand away and slowly began backing away, his eyes trained on Tucker, who was now standing. And very much alive. No signs of any corpse on the floor could be seen. No blood, no butcher knife flung aside to the ground. To make matters worse, there were a few other guys in the bathroom, each looking beyond disturbed. A couple were quickly trying to finish things up and flee. "T—Tucker? How—how did you...?"

Tucker stared at Danny, aghast. "Danny—what _-what—was_ _ **that**_?!" He moved his hands, attempting to make a point but, instead, his hands only seemed to form rapid circles in the air as he was too shocked to even speak. "What were you—did you-I—I can't—believe—I...can't even— _finish my sentences!_ " Danny continued backing away. Tucker's mouth seemed to reach the floor and he was giving Danny such a shocked 'Do I really know you?' look, it scared Danny. Tucker shook his head and tore his eyes away from Danny for a moment, looking at the door to the bathroom stall Danny had been in. He finally managed to get control over his hands again and pointed at the bottom corner of it. "You—you  _unhinged_  it. It wasn't even  _locked!_ " Tucker advanced towards Danny who, in turn, picked up his pace and backed away even quicker. It had been an empty stall. It had been luck because on either side, the other stalls were occupied.

"She—she slit your throat—I saw—you...you were dead," he stuttered, uncertainly. For all he knew he could be imagining this right now—what if Tucker was just that, anyway? A figment of his imagination? Danny shivered—it was suddenly very cold in the room. The spot where Tucker's body had been was vacant and...Danny bit his lip. He had no idea what he was doing or thinking. He wasn't even sure if half the thoughts he thought were his own anymore.

Tucker's hands fell to his sides and he gave his friend the most incredulous look he was sure he'd ever given anyone. "Danny—if someone had slit my throat and killed me within the last five minutes— _I'd know!_ " Tucker locked onto Danny's eyes and kept his gaze, continuing with a softer tone, "But no one's attacked me. Actually, I was  _still_   _talking_  to you when you went... _bonkers._ "

Danny inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled. He was still pretty shaken up at the sight he'd "witnessed" earlier. Real or not, it was scary enough to give him nightmares. "She was here, Tucker," Danny said with so much conviction it chilled Tucker to the bone.

"No one was here, Danny," Tucker said slowly and lowly. The men who'd been in the bathroom with them had all pretty much filtered out and new ones were entering that were unaware of what had just transpired.

Danny nodded his head. "Yeah, she was," he insisted. "She was..." he trailed off when he glimpsed his arm. It was bleeding.  _How did that...?_ Relief washed over him. Of course—the fight he'd just had. He now had proof that he wasn't seeing things or losing his mind. "How do you explain  _this_  if no one else was here?" he asked, lifting his arm so Tucker could see.

Tucker gave Danny an odd look before closing his eyes. He took a deep breath while rubbing his eyelids, worn-out and distressed. When he opened his eyes again, Danny was unnerved at how troubled and saddened his best friend looked.

"Danny," Tucker said slowly in as soft a tone as possible, " _You_  did  _that_."


	3. Chapter 3

It took a moment for Tucker's words to fully sink in.

_What?!"_ Danny gasped. He shook his head rapidly. "No, no,  _she_ did it. She—she..." he trailed off, desperate eyes pleading with his friend to take those words back. Maybe Tucker  _had_  seen her—maybe Tucker was toying with him. The moment he thought it, he knew it wasn't true—Tucker wouldn't toy with him like this. He knew what he had seen, though. "She was—she attacked..." He couldn't bring himself to describe the nightmarish scene again.

"No, Danny," Tucker said, his voice steady and gentle. "You did that." He met Danny's eyes, concerned. " _You_."

"No—no," Danny stuttered, confused. He brought his arm up close to his face so he could close inspect it. It looked like—Danny let out a small gasp. It looked like someone had  _ **dug their nails into his flesh**_. Hadn't he done that to  _her?_   _Hadn't he?_

Realization dawned on him as he imagined what Tucker must have seen. Slowly, he slumped to the floor as desperation washed over him. He was losing it. There was no denying it now, not after  _this._ Doubts of his sanity gnawed at the back of his mind. He felt like someone had just launched him into space and told him he should already know his way around. Danny shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind, but all the shaking in the world couldn't erase the chaos that had been let loose in his mind.

"Why?" Danny's voice trembled. "Why would I do this to myself—without even  _realizing_  it?"

"I was hoping  _you_  could tell  _me_  that." Tucker knelt beside his friend with a wet paper towel in hand. "Here—clean that up a bit."

Danny complied and wiped his scratches, then wrapped the towel tightly around it, attempting to stop the blood. A few more stares were sent that way, but one vicious glare from Tucker fended off the one or two who might have been considering approaching them.

"Uhm, Danny," Tucker ventured, hesitantly, "Do you—uh, do you do this often?" He felt immensely uncomfortable at even asking but accidental or not, Tucker felt this was something that needed to be asked and now before Danny had time to concoct any excuses.

Danny whipped his head away from his injury and stared at Tucker, shocked. "What?!" His mouth did nothing but open and close for a full minutes, imitating that of a fish. Finally, he found his voice again and protested, "Of course not! Tuck— _I_  didn't do this!  _She_ did! She made me— _she was here!_ " Tucker sighed and shook his head, a sad look on his face.

"Uh, everything okay over here?" A hesitant voice spoke up above them. Tucker glanced up and pursed his lips into a grim line.

"Yes, we were just about to leave," he assured the man, slowly standing up. The man nodded and left.

Tucker stopped halfway through so he was bent over his friend. "Danny, I've already told you.  _She wasn't in here_. Just me, you, and a few guys that are looking at us like we're crazy." He shook his head slightly before straightening up and muttering, "Good thing no one really seemed to care too much about your... _episode."_  He paused and glanced at the door, desperately wanting to leave this all behind. "We should go—Sam's probably..." he stopped when Danny let out a strangled gasp. He was staring at something just past Tucker's shoulder, terrified. Tucker glanced behind him before turning back to his friend, sighing. "Danny, nothing's here."

Danny nodded his head. How could Tucker not see her? She was standing  _ **right next to him!**_ "She's standing right next to you," he whispered.

Tucker's face filled with disbelief. "Danny,  _once again_ , no she isn't!" He whispered lowly. "Let's get out of here."

_Once again, no she isn't!_ A soft melodic feminine voice mimicked the words spoken. Danny's eyes widened and he let out another short, frightened sound. What if she jumped out of a stall, what if she killed Tucker? What if that had been the warning? That he needed to protect Sam and Tucker from being murdered by her?

"Did you hear that?! She said something!" Danny stared at her and she laughed, sending chills up his spine.

Tucker stared at his friend, open-mouthed. "What?! Danny—for the  _umpteenth time—_ _ **she isn't in here**_ _ **!"**_  Tucker nearly shouted, becoming visibly upset and increasingly concerned over his friend's well-being with each passing second. Danny was losing it and it seemed as though he could nothing to stop it. A couple men had stopped to stare at the show, exchanging worried and bemused glances with each other.

_No one else is here!_ The voice seemed to float around Danny, taunting him and making it hard for him to breathe.

"You—you didn't hear her?" Danny asked, voice quivering. Tucker shook his head, trying to ignore the pleading tone his friend's voice had taken on. It was almost as though Danny was begging him to agree just so he could be assured he wasn't losing his mind after all. Tucker sighed.

"No, Danny, I didn't hear anything."

_No, Danny, I didn't hear anything._ The voice broke out into hysterical giggles.

Danny let out a short, barely suppressed scream before clamping his hands over his ears and squeezing his eyes shut. Tucker knelt back down in front of him. "Danny," his voice dripped with concern and disbelief. "Danny," he repeated, trying to pry his friend's hands away from his ears. "Danny—this isn't funny. Sam's waiting." Danny shook his head, refusing to open his eyes or remove his hands.

_Danny—this isn't funny. Sam's waiting._ Her voice resounded throughout his mind. Danny let out another gasp, suddenly jerking his hands away from his ears and gripping Tucker's wrists. Tucker winced before looking at him, apprehensively. Danny's eyes flew open and they bore into Tucker's with desperation.

"Please, Tucker," he whispered, "make her go away."

"Danny...you're scaring me," Tucker replied, voice barely audible. He wanted to look away from his friend, but couldn't escape the intensity of his friend's eyes. It chilled him to the bone. More than anything he wanted to jump up and flee and forget any of this had ever happened. In his heart, he knew he would never just leave his friend like this, whimpering in fright at... _nothing_. Nothing except the apparent concoctions of his mind. Which was, in truth, what really frightened Tucker. The two spectators from before quickly made their way out of the bathroom after throwing a couple bewildered looks at the teenagers.

" _Please?!"_ Danny nearly screamed, rapidly descending into hysteria. "Try,  _ **please!**_ "

_Try please!_  The voice laughed with abandon.

"Okay, Danny," Tucker spoke slowly and softly, not wanting to upset Danny any further. He had to calm down his friend and try to leave the theater as soon as possible. He could only hope none of the guys that had been in earlier had reported any concerns to the employees. If they were super lucky, maybe the employees would turn out to be the lazy kind who wouldn't bother to check for twenty minutes or so. "Danny, I need you to let go of me," Tucker instructed in a calm and commanding tone. Danny stared at him for a moment confused, then glanced at his hands and nodded, freeing Tucker's wrists.

With a quick glance, Tucker determined they must have scared everyone out of the bathroom or all the movies had started and no one needed to use the bathroom as they remained the two lonely occupants. Tucker rummaged through his backpack before pulling out the thermos. This wouldn't work. But still—maybe this would help snap Danny out of his funk. "Okay, where is she?"

Danny silently lifted a finger and pointed at a vacant spot a couple feet away from his friend. Tucker managed not to roll his eyes as he stared, doubtfully, at the empty air.

"Okay," he drew in a deep breath, turned the thermos on and waited. Intense silence seemed to suffocate them. He raised his brows after a few moments had passed and looked at Danny questioningly. He was reluctant to break the haunting silence that had settled over them but someone had to. "She gone?"

"No—no, Tuck," Danny gave his friend an odd look. "You didn't turn it on."

"Uh, yeah, I did," Tucker frowned.

_Uh, yeah, I did._

Danny cringed. "No—you didn't."

_No—you didn't._

"Fine, watch," Tucker switched it off, then back on so Danny could see.

"Try something else," Danny pleaded.

Tucker sighed. He knew the thermos wouldn't work—and, apparently, humoring Danny hadn't worked either. He dug the ghost radar out of his bookbag. Maybe this would knock some sense back into his friend.

"Danny, look," Tucker held out the ghost radar. "See?"

Danny stared at it for what seemed like an eternity. "But—she's right there!" he insisted, his eyes wandering back over to the vacant spot.

Tucker's eyes rolled heavenwards. Danny didn't seem to notice his friend's growing agitation. "Danny, we've been over this. We're alone. Now let's go. Sam probably thinks we died or something."

_We died or something._

A small cry escaped Danny's lips before he summoned enough courage to nod his head. "Yeah, yeah...let's go." He slowly stood up with help from Tucker. Once standing, he stared at the floor scared to look elsewhere. The last thing he wanted was to look into her eyes.

_Let's go._

Danny suppressed another shriek, grabbing onto Tucker instead. Tucker raised his brows as his shoulders were grabbed from behind. It was as though Tucker had gained an extra body part. He continued towards the door with Danny stepping on his heels the whole way and clutching his shoulders to the point of pain. "Danny," he said, annoyance beginning to cut through him, "you're stepping all over my feet. And hurting my shoulders. I know you're seeing things and all but is this really necessary?"

"Mmm-hmmm," Danny murmured in reply, his grip not loosening. Tucker glanced over his shoulder at him and rolled his eyes again.

"Danny, you might want to open your eyes. It might help."

"Mmmm," was the response. Tucker didn't understand. The psychotic glint in that...that  _girl's_  eyes. The way she looked so amused at the torture she was putting him through. If he opened  _his_  eyes, he'd risk having to look in  _her_  eyes again. And that, he feared, might swipe away the little sanity he had left.

"Oooookay, then," Tucker shrugged slightly before continuing towards the exit. They were finally going to get out of the cursed bathroom, which Tucker had grown to hate so very much in the last twenty minutes or so.

Sam sat cross armed on the bench by the boys' bathroom. Her foot tapped the floor impatiently. She glanced at her watch, groaning in annoyance. What was taking those two so long? They'd been in there for nearly half an hour. That was highly unusual. Usually it took them five minutes tops when they had to stop in the restroom. It would take maybe, at most, ten minutes for Tucker to clean up, she figured. And ten was an overestimate. Did the boys' bathroom have a washing and drying machine that she needed to know about?

Sam glanced up as a woman passed her and went into the girls' restroom which was across the hall. The place was pretty dead now that all the movies had started. She wished it had been this empty when Danny had went berserk on that movie standee. Unfortunately, though, it hadn't been. She just hoped no one from school had seen them. Not that she cared. However, she did care that Danny and Tucker would care. Tucker would be embarrassed beyond belief. And Danny would be absolutely mortified. Sam shook her head. Those two thought too highly of others' opinions. She smiled. She would never admit that she, too, cared  _somewhat_  of what others' thought about her. However, she didn't care half as much as Tucker and Danny. When it came down to it Sam tended to value her own opinion more than others' for the most part. At the moment, though, her primary concern was the fact that Danny was acting like some kind of nutcase.

She jumped slightly at a sound that had come from the men's bathroom. She jerked her head to the side and stared at the door, shocked. Had someone just  _screamed_? She held her gaze on the door for awhile longer waiting for another scream, but none came. She shook her head, figuring it must be her overactive imagination or hoping it was.

Sam settled back into the bench, sighing. If they took much longer she might just have to barge in there. She was almost certain Tucker and Danny were the only two guys in there as she had observed the many guys that had gone in and come back out, hoping each time for it to be her friends. There was no way to be one hundred percent certain, though, without running in there. That and the unfriendly looks employees were shooting her were the only things that had kept her outside for so long. They were obviously already on the verge of being banned from the cinema. Her running into the men's restroom, yelling at her two friends certainly wouldn't earn them any points. She couldn't shake the feeling they were on their third strike, one more, and they'd be thrown out.

She occupied some time by studying the preview boards of upcoming movies that hung on the wall across the hall from her. She was reading one when the men's door finally opened. She jumped up.

"It's about time..." her voice trailed off when she got a good look at her friends. Tucker looked older and Danny looked as though he'd reverted back to childhood. He was clutching Tucker like some frightened four-year old would their parent. She felt her throat go dry with worry. Silence hung over them and she couldn't bring herself to break it. Her eyes found Tucker's and she silently asked what had happened. He heaved a tired sigh.

"I'm calling Jazz," he told her tiredly. "You got your cell phone with you?"

"Uh—yeah," Sam fished it out of her purse and handed it to Tucker, still confused. She didn't even think to ask why he didn't just use his own.

Tucker took the phone from Sam and turned back to their friend. "Danny, you can open your eyes now. We're outta the bathroom."

Sam watched, horrified but fascinated at once. Danny cautiously opened his eyes and slowly glanced up and down the hallway as though looking for someone or something. Sam tried to ignore the haunted look that clouded and dulled his blue eyes.

"What...?" Sam looked from Danny to Tucker, a little upset at being left out of the loop. Obviously something had happened in that bathroom. Without a doubt, it had something to do with Danny's recent hallucinations but she was curious as to what  _exactly_  had happened in there while she was outside. Danny's eyes were still sweeping the hallways and he wasn't backing away from Tucker. Sam sighed, frustration at her lack of knowledge welling up inside her. "Danny, what're you looking for?"

" _Her_ ," was the quite reply. Sam exchanged a look with Tucker. She stared at her dark-skinned friend, expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

"I'll explain later," he sighed, trying to pry Danny's hands off of him. "Danny, why don't you sit here with Sam? I'll be right back."

Danny glanced between the two, unsure. Sam shot Tucker a worried look, who returned it with one of his own. Sam turned her attention back to Danny, offering him a small smile.

"Come on, Danny," she kept her smile tight, grabbing his hands, and leading him away from Tucker to the bench. Tucker gave her a grateful nod, before heading off in the opposite direction. He didn't want anything he said to Jazz to upset Danny, so he figured it'd be best to get out of his friend's earshot.

Sam watched as Tucker disappeared around a corner before cocking her head at Danny, curiosity getting the best of her. "So, Danny, care to tell me what happened?"

"Uh," Danny hesitated, uncomfortable. Tucker already thought he was loony. He shifted his weight, shooting Sam a nervous glance. He didn't want his other friend to think he was a total lunatic as well. But Tucker would tell her what he saw. He supposed he should tell Sam what he had seen so she'd have both sides of the story. "Well..." he sighed, unsure.

"Yes?" Sam nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"You're gonna think I'm crazy," he sighed. "Tuck thinks so." He avoided Sam's eyes as he let out another sigh. "I'm beginning to think that, too," he admitted.

"Danny," amusement twisted the corners of Sam's mouth upwards. "I doubt you're insane."

"Sam, I—I saw her in there," his eyes finally met hers in an attempt to read her reaction. "She was there."

"Uh, well," Sam tried to rip her eyes away from Danny's intense gaze but found that she wasn't able to do so. She couldn't say she was surprised at the confession. It was funny—he'd only started seeing this girl a few days ago. At least, that's when he had first mentioned her to them. Now she had to wonder how long Danny had kept it to himself, maybe he'd been seeing her for much longer than they'd originally thought. Up until today, Sam and Tucker had figured it was just some random girl he'd spotted that lived around here and developed a crush on. This would be one insane crush and was clearly not the case. "Did she, uh, say anything?"

Danny nodded. "Yeah." He paused before shaking his head. "Well, no, actually." Sam raised an eyebrow. He sighed. "Sort of."

"Sort of?" Sam prompted.

"Well—she just repeated whatever me or Tucker said." He shuddered at the memory of her creepy melodic voice. "But Tucker couldn't hear anything she said. But  _I_  could hear her—she was there.  _She was_."

Sam held back a sigh, wondering if she could retract her earlier statement about doubting his insanity. To her, it sounded more like he was trying to convince  _himself_  that he had really seen someone in there. He wasn't even sure. She pointed at his arm where a red tainted paper towel clung to his skin. "What happened there?"

Danny glanced down at his arm and felt a slight blush creeping across his face. "Uhm, well, she...attacked Tucker—I thought she did, anyway. So I attacked her." Sam bit her lip nervously. This all sounded familiar. After a moment, Danny finally explained, "Well, I  _thought_  I was fighting  _her_ , anyway," he dropped his head into his hands and sighed sadly.

Sam stared at her friend, trying to digest what he'd just told her. She was almost one hundred percent positive he was subtlety saying that he had inflicted himself with that cut. That he had done that without even  _realizing_  it. That did sound insane. But that couldn't be Danny because Danny wasn't insane. She'd known Danny for a long time and he was a sane person. She glanced over at his hunched form.  _Wasn't he?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On FFN there's an author note that says it's been four years, which it had been at the time. But not here! Whoo!!

Several people were nudged aside as Tucker stumbled through the lobby, dazed and unable to maintain his bearings. Knuckles were turning colors as he tightly clutched Sam's phone to his ear. The theater and other people didn't seem to actually exist and gave a strange and surreal quality to it. Almost dreamlike, but he knew he was asking too much for all this to just be a dream. Still trying to process what had happened just a few minutes ago, he thought denial would not be the brightest idea given Danny's current state. He shuddered as he recalled how his friend had just completely snapped while in the bathroom.

Danny had began muttering hysterically while Tucker had still been talking. It had started off soft as a whisper, so Tucker almost hadn't heard him, but the frantic whispers began to rise in volume the more distressed his friend became. Without a second thought, Tucker finished his business, hopped up off the toilet, and practically ran out his stall, dragging his pants up in the process.

He had flung open his own door, nearly knocking a confused and annoyed man over, just in time to witness Danny angrily yanking on a door and unhinging it! Completely obvious to Tucker's cries and a few astounded stares, Danny had dug his fingernails into just below his elbows and dragged them downwards, drawing blood. Not any sounds of pain had come from him as if he hadn't even registered what he was doing. That hadn't even been the worst part of the whole awful ordeal. The downright terrified look Danny had given him would haunt his nightmares. Images of a cornered animal sprang to mind. It had not been fun to see his friend like that. He couldn't get the sight out of his head, though, as if it had been emblazoned into his mind's eye.

He finally stopped ruminating over what had just happened and came to a stop realizing he had never bothered to punch in a number and that's why no one was talking to him on the phone. Checking Sam's contacts, he was relieved to see Jazz's number in there. He knew Jazz had helped Sam out with some school work awhile back and figured she'd have it. If he were smart, he would have asked for Danny's phone but hadn't felt much like asking his friend for anything. Not after that escapade in the bathroom. The phone began to ring and he listened, hoping the normality of it would help shake off some of the shock he felt. The crowd in the lobby seemed so much louder than earlier even with less people. He was sure it was because of his heightened state of paranoia. Almost any loud noise, laughter or shouting, Tucker turned towards expecting to see Danny beating up an employee, chasing a kid, or fighting Sam. Danny was simply a danger to himself and others in his current state and they had to get him out of there. Tucker tapped his foot impatiently waiting for Jazz to pick up. A nearby conversation caught his attention.

"Hey, wasn't he with that kid?" Someone whispered loudly.

"The crazy one? That went all ballistic?" A young girl's voice traveled through the lobby.

"Whatever. Don't those kids go to our school?"

Tucker's eyes snapped over them. He didn't recognize them, but felt even more paranoid. Now, it seemed like everyone in the cinema must be whispering about them. Irritated, he exited the lobby and found a quite spot away from the long line of moviegoers waiting to buy a ticket.  _Pick up, Jazz, pick up, Jazz,_ he silently chanted. When her voicemail clicked on, he hung up and hit the send button on the phone, trying to remain calm. Anger would not help. Finally, after the fourth ring, a voice filled his ear.

"Hello?" Jazz's tone barely contained her annoyance at being interrupted.

Tucker kept his voice low and steady, trying not to sound panicky or desperate. "Hey, Jazz, can you, uh, pick us up?" He got straight to the point, not wanting to waste any time or draw this out. He already felt embarrassed. He was too paranoid and anxious to sense Jazz's unhappiness and confusion at his call.

"Tucker? Why are you mumbling into Sam's phone? If you have something to say, say it. I'm a busy girl."

Tucker decided not to comment on how that could be misunderstood. Given the circumstances, jokes seemed inappropriate. He asked louder, "Can you come get us?" An awkward silence followed as Jazz waited for the punchline. Tucker cleared his throat. "Uh, Jazz? You still there?"

"Look, Tucker, I don't know what game you're playing at. You guys just got there not that long ago. I know you haven't already watched a movie. And what's wrong with walking or riding the bus, anyway? You didn't have any trouble getting there." The way the theater was placed, it was actually easier to walk from the Fentons' house. You could easily cut through a few large fields and be near the back of the theater. You still had to go around to the front and cut across a couple parking lots and one road, but it took less time than the drive. Driving there took longer as the road to it crossed a major highway and large shopping center was in front of it. Most of the times the family just walked to it unless they planned to go shopping and knew they'd have a lot of bags to carry. Tucker couldn't fault Jazz for being confused. They could probably walk back in the amount of time it would take Jazz to drive there especially when factoring in traffic. The bus was more or less a bust since you had to wait so long for it and you still had to use the road.

"Jazz, please," Tucker abandoned all false bravado. There was no point acting like things were normal since they were far from it. She was likely to figure things out once she saw Danny act out. "I don't think Danny can walk all the way back."

"What? Did he sprain his ankle on the way over or something?"

"No, uh, he...I can't," Tucker sighed, putting his free hand to his forehead and massaging his temples. Where would he even begin to explain?

"Look," Jazz cut in obviously not pleased. "What is wrong?"

Tucker pursed his lips. "He just-he just," Tucker was using his free hand to make half-hearted gestures as if Jazz could see and his voice was steadily growing louder. "I don't know. Its just-look you  _need_  to get here, okay? We  _can't_  walk home!" he burst out. Tucker was staring hard at the ground contemplating his next words. He felt eyes on him and slowly looked up.

The majority of the moviegoers waiting in line were staring at him as Tucker had shouted that last bit into the phone. A couple employees were giving him, 'you again?' looks. The group that had been whispering about Danny earlier shot him some odd looks. He felt like all eyes were on him, as though he were actually some exhibit in a museum that everyone had come to see. It only lasted a couple seconds, but felt much longer to Tucker. Noise reigned the area again, laughter, shouting, and loud conversations competing with each other. Tucker could still hear bits and pieces about him weaved through all the activity.

"That was crazy. That kid over there?" Two adults in line whispered with a glance in his direction.

"Must be scared to walk at night," a woman shot him a sympathetic look.

"Hey, it's him again. Guess he's crazy, too," the kids that thought they went to school with him were whispering loudly again.

"Probably that goth chick."

"Yeah, that'll drive you crazy."

"Whatever. What a bunch of weirdos." They walked away slowly, shaking their heads and laughing, refreshments in hands. Tucker watched as they vanished into a hallway opposite of where he knew Sam and Danny to be. If he were older and wiser, he would know to be grateful for small miracles. Young and inexperienced he remained concerned that they went to his school and would gossip about this first chance they got.

He sighed inwardly. If they didn't have much of a reputation before they were certainly building one now and it wasn't the type you wanted to have.

"Tucker, you don't have to scream at me." Jazz's voice brought Tucker back from his thoughts. "I mean, yeesh, if it means  _that_  much to you, I'll come pick you up. Meet me out front?"

"Yeah," he agreed, feeling drained. "And thanks."

"Sure."

Tucker flipped the phone shut and made his way out of the lobby all too aware of the many stares that burned into his back.

Sam didn't hide her relief when she saw Tucker coming for them. Danny hadn't said a word since his disturbing explanation about the cuts on his arms. She hadn't been able to come up with any reassuring words for her depressed and anxious friend. It had only been several minutes, but with silence in the air and employees shooting them furious looks it had seemed more like several hours. Tucker took in the scene and his friends' despondent and confused looks. He was sure his own must have mirrored them.

"Jazz is coming, we're going to meet her outside," Tucker informed his friends. He shot Sam a questioning look that communicated he wanted to know if anything had happened during his absence. Sam was able to figure out the look nearly right away and gave a slight shake of her head in answer.

She hopped up at Tucker's words, anxious to leave the cinema. "Okay, let's get out of here. The employees look like they might kill us." As if they hadn't caused enough trouble, now they were just hanging out, looking as though they might start going into theaters they hadn't purchased tickets for. She offered a hand to Danny. He accepted and slowly got up but kept his head down, eyes firmly trained to the floor. Tucker believed that Danny didn't think he could see the girl if he didn't look up. Sam thought he was just too mortified to look up. Slowly and silently they entered the main lobby. A route that both Sam and Tucker would regret.

A shout that pierced through the lobby had all three of their eyes wide and faces red.

"Hey, man! The movie in theater nine,  _Ice Kills_  really sucked! Do us a favor and go destroy the movie standee, okay?" The group with him erupted into laughter.

"Yeah, beat the living snot out of it!"

"Waste of money! And time!"

"For real. Kill the sorry thing. Nothing should be allowed to be that bad."

Tucker winced wishing he or Sam would've thought to use one of the less trafficked exits and just go around to the front of the theater instead of choosing to go through the main lobby. It may have been the shortest way out, but it was starting to feel like they'd picked the longest way to get out. The place was packed and many people that had been in line during Danny's outburst were now in line at the concession stand. Even more people had filtered in than when he'd been on the phone just a couple minutes ago. Of course that would be their luck. By Monday the whole town would be talking about it. Crazy kid hates movie so much he can't stand the sight of a standee advertising it. Tucker could already imagine an article in the school paper, or, worse yet, the local paper. Surely not, there must be more interesting things happening in this town.

"Hey, it's that kid," someone called out, pointing at Danny.

"Some people's kids. No self-control these days. Always wanting attention."

"You know, if youtube doesn't work, madly punching and kicking a movie standee will!"

"Oh,  _man,_  did anyone get that on camera? That would get  _so_  many hits on youtube!"

Sam glanced at Danny. He cringed at every comment, but kept his eyes firmly on the floor which Sam was grateful for. She was sure he could feel the stares, though. Worried, she sped up a little and Tucker followed suit. They wanted to get out of there  _now._ If she heard another youtube comment, she might go ballistic. She decided not to think about what would happen if someone really did put that on the internet. She couldn't recall anyone holding a camera or phone up to them, but she had been too preoccupied with Danny to even care about something like that at the time.

The cool night air felt good and welcome as each felt relief well up at having escaped the main lobby in once piece. Stars dotted the sky and a not quite full moon brightened the sky. What irony it would have been had it been full, Sam felt the thought slip into her mind and found she was disappointed it wasn't a full moon. At least they could have had something to blame this whole mess on. They found a fairly empty area that was still visible so Jazz could see them. It only took a few minutes before the older girl pulled up to the curb, arm hanging out her window, and she waited expectantly for her brother and his friends. They began to make their way towards her when Danny came to a sudden halt. Sam and Tucker walked a few more steps before realizing they'd lost their friend and turned back to look at him. Tucker felt a shiver as he recalled this was what had happened when Danny had thought that elderly woman was the creepy girl he'd been seeing.

"You okay?" Sam asked raising her eyebrows and trying to sound as casual as possible given the circumstances. Tucker shot her a look like she was going crazy, too. In his opinion it was obvious that Danny was very far from okay.

"I'm really sorry, you guys," Danny apologized quietly. "I know that had to be embarrassing. And if someone puts that up on youtube, you really don't have to be friends with me."

Tucker patted his friend on the back. "Don't worry. Besides, it was way more embarrassing for you than us."

"He's right," Sam agreed but didn't spare her dark skinned friend a glare. She tried to lighten Danny's spirit. "You did look pretty hilarious punching the living daylights out of that standee. And, Danny, nothing on youtube could make us just stop being your friends."

"What she said," Tucker agreed. "Besides, most people will probably just think it was staged anyway. We could even say it was if things get too out of hand. No biggie," he waved one of his hands as if to say, 'happens all the time.'

"Are you coming or what?" Jazz's voice cut into their conversation. Her head was now sticking out the driver's window and she looked put-out. She was not exactly thrilled about picking up her brother and his friends. Tucker yells at her on the phone to come and get them like they're in some sort of dire situation. She arrives in a very timely manner and all they do is stand a little ways away from her car, chatting away like she isn't right there waiting for them.  _And they wonder why I don't care much for them?_

"Sorry," Sam muttered.

"We're coming!" Tucker reassured her. He, Sam, and Danny moved quickly to the car each anxious to get as far away as possible from that cinema. Tucker climbed in the passenger seat thanking Jazz for coming. Jazz let out a short nod and waited for them to all pile in before leaving.

Sam got into the backseat, but her eyes never left Danny. She noticed the look of surprise on her friend's face when he opened his door. He had stood stockstill for a moment, but shook his head almost imperceptibly, crawled in and stared out his window with such intensity Sam almost asked if he'd seen a ghost. Remembering Jazz was in the car and taking into account the current situation she decided the best course of action to take was none.

Danny refused to turn around. Without a doubt, Sam was probably more worried than before, but he didn't want to cause a scene. His best friends already thought he was losing it. If he was being honest with himself, he would have to agree with them. He didn't want Jazz to think so. She might call their parents and then what? What if he had to go to the hospital or a mental institution? Would they really put him in a room with padded walls? Glancing at the angry red marks on his arms, he figured he'd get the strait jacket treatment, too. Even if he could just ghost out of those places wouldn't that cause suspicions? Would they think he was even more crazy or weird or what? Would he become some sort of experiment that you usually heard about in sci-fi novels and movies?

He refused to do anything but stare out the window trying to ignore the presence he could feel next to him. When he'd opened the car door, that  _girl_  had already been sitting in the middle seat, buckled in, grinning broadly like he was  _her_  guest, as if she rode in this car all the time with Jazz. It had taken all his self-control not to run away screaming at the unwelcome sight. He figured the theater had had enough of his antics and doubted the employees would forgive him for another weird outburst or "episode" as Tucker had so aptly named it.

It was a frightening to know she was  _right there._ Worst of all, if he allowed himself to look past a certain point in the window he could see her reflection, and, of course, she'd meet his eyes every time. He concentrated on the lower corner of the window so he wouldn't chance looking at her again. All the while, desperately wishing one of his friends or sister would ask about the fifth person in the car, but they remained blissfully ignorant.

Jazz navigated her way out of the parking lot, glancing at Danny frequently in the rear-view mirror as if not sure of what she was seeing. "What happened to your arms? I thought something was wrong with your legs."

"Legs?" Danny murmured confused, but kept his eyes locked onto the lower corner of the window.

"What?"

"Uh, he fell," Tucker supplied.

"And scraped them," Sam added quickly. "Once when he tried to catch himself, again when he tried to cushion himself," she laughed nervously. "You know how klutzy he is." Sam and Tucker both fixed Jazz with nervous looks. She waited for Danny to defend himself but he remained silent. She gave each of her brother's friends a skeptical look.

"Oh," she said clearly doubtful that was anywhere  _near_  the truth, but decided not to pressure them for more information. Clearly, they didn't want to share it with her. She turned onto the highway hoping to get home sooner rather than later. Her brother and his freaky friends were acting stranger than usual. "Uh, you guys didn't get kicked out or something, did you?"

"No," Tucker was quick to assure her, silently adding,  _Not yet, anyway_. He knew Danny and Sam were thinking it, too.

Jazz started asking more questions and Tucker kept giving her short, evasive answers while Danny and Sam kept quiet in the back. Between Jazz and Tucker's voices and the radio in the background, Danny could almost forget there was a girl sitting between him and Sam. He almost had, too. He was trying to convince himself that if he ignored her she would go away. It wasn't until Avenged Sevenfold's song,  _Almost Easy,_  began playing on the radio that he realized that ignoring the girl would not help and forgetting her was simply not an option.

It started out normal enough like all the other songs that had played, but this song quickly acquired a loud, clear, female vocal and she was singing live.  _"I'm not insane, I'm not insane."_ He could hear her voice start as a singing whisper and gradually become louder. With trepidation he lifted his eyes upwards and met hers in the reflection. She was staring straight at him, singing gleefully, a glint of insanity in her eyes that deeply disturbed Danny.

" _I'm not insane, I'm not insane."_

He wasn't sure if she was even singing the lyrics at the right time, but it didn't matter. They were the only lyrics she would sing and it felt like she was using them to call  _him_  insane.

Sam shot Danny a worried look. His eyes had widened and glazed over giving him a zombie-like appearance. He turned slowly towards her. "Danny?" But he wasn't looking or responding to her. It felt like he was definitely seeing something she wasn't and something she didn't want to see.

Danny wasn't sure he could take it much more. The girl's voice continually grew louder and louder and it had a horrible teasing, sarcastic quality about it that made him want to scream and hit something.  _"I'm not insane, I'm not insane."_  Every now and then she would burst into laughter, never taking her eyes off Danny.

"Stop," he ordered. "Stop, I'm—I'm-"

" _I'm not insane, I'm not insane."_ Definitely sarcastic. He truly felt like she was telling him he was the crazy, out of place person and she wasn't.

"Stop!" he shouted. "I'm not! I'm not!"

"Danny!" Sam cried, alarmed. He was still looking as though someone was in between them and seemed to have forgotten about her, Jazz, and Tucker. It was an odd feeling to realize you no longer existed in your best friend's world.

"Stop! I'm  _not!_ "

Tucker twisted around to see what was going on. "Danny, it's us!" He shouted over his friend's frantic exclamations.

"What is going on?" Jazz demanded. "If this is a joke, it's  _not_ funny."

"It's not! This is why I called!"

"What? Are you  _serious?!_  If that's the case you should've called sooner!" Jazz looked in the rear-view mirror confused. She debated stopping the vehicle to try to calm her brother or knock sense into him, but abandoned the idea. She was on a busy overpass and traffic was jam-packed. She was worried that she'd cause a wreck by trying to swing into the shoulder lane. Home was only a few minutes beyond the overpass. She looked back at Danny who was still running at the mouth about something. Even if she did pull over, she doubted she'd be  _able_  to calm him down and then other people and possibly the authorities might get involved. This wouldn't be such a bad thing if it weren't for her brother's unique paranormal abilities.

"It only got this bad a little while ago! I didn't know!" Tucker defended himself.

Danny was screaming now. "I'm not!" Every time he said it the girl would just sing that verse louder than before and her grin would broaden. Finally, he clenched his eyes shut and clapped his hands over his ears in desperation. It muffled the sound a little, but he could still hear her practically chanting. " _I'm not insane. I'm not insane."_ He could hear the smirk in her voice. Again, as if she were making the point that she wasn't crazy, but he was.

"Change it! Change the song!" he hollered.

"Okay! Okay!" Tucker promptly changed it, eyes wide. "It's on this station, too!"

" _CHANGE IT!"_

"OKAY!" Tucker powered off the radio. Heavy silence hung over them each afraid to break it.

" _I'm not insane, I'm not insane."_ The strange girl had no qualms about breaking the silence in her and Danny's world.

"AHHH!" he pressed his hands harder to his ears. "Put it on something, just  _NOT THAT."_

"Okay!" Tucker turned the radio back on and spun the dial anxiously. Sean Kingston's voice filled the air. "Is that better?"

Danny didn't move for a good two minutes, trying to hear if the girl was still singing. Not hearing any muffled lyrics, he opened one eye. Her mouth was shut but drawn upwards in an amused smile. "I'm not insane," she said simply, her eyes gleaming with such insane pleasure it terrified Danny. He had to get away. He never wanted to see her again. He wanted to forget her haunting eyes. They seemed to captivate him every time he looked into them, feeling as though he wasn't allowed to look away. She giggled, clearly delighting in his distress. His hands found the door handle behind him, but he continued to stare at her, unable to break away from her gaze. He was unaware of the panicked gasps from his sister and friends.

"Danny," Sam was unbuckling her seat belt in a complete state of panic. Was her friend going to jump out of the car and, consequently, off the overpass, and into moving traffic? Or he could just get hit by a car the moment he stumbled out of the car. Sheer panic was quickly coloring all of Sam's thoughts. She reminded herself to breathe. She could not afford to freak out. Right now, Danny's life was at stake. No one wanted him to become a permanent fixture of the ghost zone.

Jazz hit her horn anxious to get home. Why were there so many people driving around today, anyway? And why was traffic so backed up? Anger at being helpless jolted through her and she slammed down on the horn again. Tucker shot her a horrified look, praying she wasn't losing her mind, too.

Sam's heart was thumping wildly against her chest as she tried to think of the best way to go about calming her friend. Jazz banging on the horn wasn't helping. Danny's eyes were bright with hysteria and sweat glistened on his forehead. Sam again wondered if maybe he had some kind of fever or sickness they weren't aware of. She knew she was grasping for straws, but right now, she was willing to accept any rational explanation for Danny's disturbing outbursts. If it were a fever or sickness a doctor should be able to prescribe a cure for it. She pushed the hopeful thought away, knowing that would make things too easy.

"Danny?" her voice was measured and quiet. "It's me, Sam." She tried to move closer but Danny shrieked in horror.

"Don't come closer! You'll touch her!" He looked at Sam as if that was the worst possible thing that could happen to her. Sam didn't know how to respond and her mouth hung open with reassuring words lost to shock.

"Touch  _who?_ " Jazz asked. "Who else is in the car?!"

Tucker twisted around in the passenger seat again to get a better view of what was going on in the back. "Danny, it's us. No one else is in here," he explained quietly feeling as if he had never left the bathroom in the theater.

Danny met Tucker's eyes, but they were filled with such disbelief Tucker suppressed a gasp. It only took a second to figure out. Danny didn't believe him. "She's in here," he whispered hoarsely, fingers convulsing around the door handle.

"Do  _NOT_  open that door!" Jazz ordered. " _Don't_  do it," she cried, trying to weave in and out of traffic with her hazards flashing. They were almost off of the overpass. She was trying to get off as soon possible. Home was so  _close_. Horns blared all around them, Jazz's own horn adding to the sound of angry drivers.

"She's in here," Danny stated again as if that was enough of a reason for  _anyone_  to open the door of a moving vehicle and run away regardless of the dangers it presented.

"Danny," Sam tried again managing to keep her voice level despite the uncertainty she felt. "Please let go of the handle."

"No, she's right here, need to get away," he muttered. He clutched the handle more tightly and made to open it, but stopped short. She was still smiling. It wasn't unusual but now her teeth were showing and her eyes sparkled with such intensity Danny swallowed knowing he wouldn't like what she was about to say.

"Leave me here with your friends, huh? Don't worry.  _I'm not insane."_

He made a strangled gasp and wrenched his hand away from the door handle, eyes as wide as they could go.

"Good!" Sam exclaimed. "We're almost home, okay?"

Danny's mouth was hanging open unable to overcome his horrified shock. Suddenly, he felt overcome with exhaustion. He felt drained, physically and emotionally. Unable to fight it despite worrying that his friends and sister might not be there when he awoke, he succumbed to the blackness of unconsciousness. Hopefully he would be allowed some reprieve from this bizarre situation. His chin hit his chest and he slumped forward.

"Get him away from the door!" Jazz shrieked.

"Okay, okay!" Sam reached across and pulled at Danny getting the upper half of him more in the middle seat. He lay across the middle and door seat, dead to the world. Sam checked his pulse a couple times and listened to his breathing, scared he might really  _be_  dead. Impulsively she felt his forehead, still half hoping he would have a high-grade fever. She was disappointed, but not surprised that he wasn't feverish.

Jazz tried to keep her breathing steady. She was somewhere in between furious and helplessly confused. She didn't dare ask, but surely Tucker and Sam weren't acting as if they didn't know what was going on with Danny just because she was there. She knew they weren't aware that she had figured out her brother had a unique ability. She clung to the hope that his friends must know what was going on, and kept looking at Tucker and Sam expecting them to exchange some sort of look full of knowledge that she wasn't privy to. As she got closer to the house, she knew it was a false hope. They only looked confused and frightened and completely unknowledgeable about the situation. They either didn't know or both had fantastic careers waiting for them in Hollywood.

Volume knob on low, only quiet sounds of hip hop filled the car the rest of the way home. Silence and worry were shared by the three conscious beings in the car. At the house, Danny wouldn't wake up and Tucker had grudgingly agreed to carry him in, throwing him over his shoulders and complaining that geeks normally didn't have to do that type of thing. It had been a sad attempt at trying to lighten the mood and it had failed miserably. Danny's health, both mental and physical, had declined to drastically in the space of an hour, maybe two. His sister and two friends were at a loss, each feeling like this was the beginning of the end.

Jazz fell heavily into a chair in the kitchen, while Tucker and Sam stood watch over her brother. She rested her forehead in her hands, thoughts racing in every direction. She finally hit one she thought might help.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: We're back to the continuation of the first chapter.

"I have an idea," Jazz announced. Tucker and Sam both turned to her expectantly. Looking into eyes so full of intensity and determination, they suddenly felt hopeful about the situation. She continued, "We just need to go through each and every one of Mom and Dad's books about ghosts. There's bound to be something in one of them." Jazz said with finality as if that was the answer to all their problems.

Sam and Tucker both put forth effort to not look too crestfallen. "Books?" Tucker repeated, obviously not nearly as convinced as Jazz that books would get them anywhere in their current dilemma.

Sam tilted her head confused. "Even if they do have information, how are we supposed to find it and help Danny before your parents get back from their GOA meeting?"

It was Jazz's turn to tilt her head. She tapped her chin, deep in thought. Sam had a very valid point. She sighed before declaring, "It's impossible."

"Gee, thanks for the support," Tucker folded his arms, voice heavy with sarcasm. "Really, much appreciated."

"Not quite what we wanted to hear," Sam agreed.

Jazz waved her hands as if to dismiss their concerns. "No, no, it's okay," she insisted. Tucker and Sam both stared at her wondering if perhaps crazy just ran in the family after all? Unfazed by their stares, Jazz continued, "I have a couple ideas, actually. It's kind of hit or miss, but it might work," she rambled as if the other two knew what she was planning. "I'll make a couple phone calls. You two should be okay alone for a few more minutes, right?"

Tucker and Sam exchanged a look before shrugging. Tucker answered first, "Guess so."

"Sure," Sam said squeezing Danny's hand. "We'll be okay."

Jazz was already walking out the door, punching a number into the wireless phone. Tucker looked over at Sam. "I hope she has a  _really_ good idea because we're in a pretty bad mess."

"I hope so, too," Sam agreed looking down at Danny grimly. Nearly twenty minutes passed and Jazz still hadn't returned to the room. With the exception of Danny groaning and muttering every now and then the room had been eerily quiet with Sam and Tucker each lost in their own thoughts. They could hear snatches of Jazz gabbing on the phone to some unknown person, but not enough to piece together what she was planning or who was on the other end. She finally returned to the room, phone in one hand and a medicine bottle of some sort in the other. She walked in beaming, looking thoroughly pleased with herself.

"Who'd you call?" Tucker asked right away.

"What's that?" Sam asked at the same time, eyeing the bottle in Jazz's hand.

Jazz answered Sam first. "This," she tossed the bottle lightly in the air and easily caught it, "sleeping medicine." It was a light colored liquid and promised deep sleep beneath its bold name.

"You're hoping to make him stop dreaming?" Sam guessed.

"Something like that. I don't want him to make too much noise because," she looked at Tucker and tossed the phone in the air, caught it, and set it on the nearby dresser, "I called a friend and, it took a while, but I got a place to stay. I'll call Mom and Dad and tell them Danny's staying the night at Tucker's and I'm staying with my partner in science class so we can work more on our project."

"Uh, do you really think we're going to figure this all out in one night?" Sam didn't look so sure. Eyeing the bottle of promised restful sleep, she doubted the other girl really believed it would only take one night, either. The answer revealed that she was expecting it to take a few nights, but optimistically hoping it could be solved in one.

"I don't know," Jazz answered honestly. "I doubt it, but I'm hoping it won't take longer than a few days. That wouldn't seem odd to my parents. A whole week or two could probably go by before they started getting suspicious about anything. They're too into chasing ghosts. They won't get worried." She looked over at her brother. "Unless, of course, they saw him like this. And then, if he went ghost in front of them," she shuddered, "that could be bad. They might think he's possessed or something weird."

"Good point," Tucker agreed. "Where're we staying at?"

"Motel 6."

"What?" Sam and Tucker both asked in unison. Both looked a bit horrified at Jazz's idea.

"You couldn't pick a place more, uh...upscale?" Tucker asked.

"Look, most other hotels charge more a room and can't afford for some kids to take up residence there for a few days." She shrugged. "Besides, I know the manager. I helped him host a charity event there my freshman year."

The idea was growing on Sam, but one thing bothered her. "So, if he knows you, is he letting us stay free?"

"Don't worry. I'll work it off. It's already set up."

Tucker pumped a fist in the air trying to rid himself of any negative vibes he had about the idea. "Sweet, sounds good to me!"

Sam bit her lip, still not completely sold, but she knew Jazz was right: Danny's parents couldn't see him. Not yet. "Will it be okay? Shouldn't he be in a familiar place?"

Jazz thought for a moment. "I think a hospital would be best, but we can't do that. We can't help him here. He'll be with us, though. Familiar faces are more important than places."  _I hope_ , she added silently, closing her eyes for a brief moment.

Sam nodded a bit stunned. She wondered if Jazz had any idea how poetic that had sounded. A part of Sam was pleased since she enjoyed poetry, especially rhyming, but part of her was even more worked up; most poetry was melancholy and most poems ended or revolved around tragedy. She held Danny's hand a little tighter. She definitely didn't want some poetic tragedy.

Jazz was leaning over her brother, trying her best to force the liquid medicine down his throat. He spit up the first dose. "Help keep him steady," she instructed Sam and Tucker. They each complied immediately. She tried again, but he spat it out, muttering something incomprehensible. Jazz gritted her teeth. She didn't want to be mean to Danny, but she really wanted him to take the medicine. She was nowhere near one hundred percent sure, but there was a chance he might actually get some much longed for relief from whatever or whoever he was seeing.

Plugging his nose, she poured some more into his mouth, and, with Sam's help, they managed to keep his mouth firmly shut. He struggled and spluttered, finally wrenching free of Tucker and Sam's grip, shooting straight up in the bed. Jazz jumped, shocked at the sudden violent movements. He coughed some more and looked around dazed.

"Danny!" Tucker managed to squeak.

Danny turned to him bewildered. "Tucker? What are you doing here? What's going on?"

Tucker quickly averted his eyes, not really sure how to explain to Danny what was going on. He had been hoping Danny could tell  _them_  that, but he looked more confused than anyone else in the room. "Uhh..."

"Danny, I need you to take some of this," Jazz got straight to the point, fearing Danny might not be in his right mind for long. She poured another dose, hoping this would actually stay in Danny. She offered it to him, but he didn't take it right away. He looked at it doubtfully.

"I don't know," he said slowly.

"It's not poisoned with anything if that's what you're worried about," Jazz said with narrowed eyes. He glanced up at her surprised. "Is that what you thought?" When he didn't respond, Jazz pressed on, "Danny, you need to tell us what's going on in your head. Do you know?"

"It's not  _in my head!_ " he insisted. "She's not, she..." he trailed off, shoulders drooping in defeat. Who was he kidding? She must be in his head. Still, she had mentioned something about his friends feeling burdened by him, but they wouldn't do any of the stuff she kept hinting at...would they? He felt a bit panicky and like he was being ripped in two. The worst part of it had to be that he was beginning to think it was somehow his own fault. After all, if she wasn't real and she wasn't a ghost that had to mean he made her up, right? At least, that's what everyone and everything seemed to keep telling him. He whispered in a voice that made even him cringe at how pitiful he sounded, "She's not in my head. I don't think. I don't know. How would she get there? How do I get her out?" he looked at the others plaintively. Clearly, he thought they must have an answer.

Jazz bit her lip and blinked back tears. "Danny, take some of this. It might help get her out." She offered him the medicine again and he took it this time without saying anything.

"You'll be okay," Sam insisted while Danny gulped the medicine. He smiled appreciatively at her before his eyes slid shut and his head fell forward, already oblivious to the world.

"Wow," Sam was impressed on two counts, "That stuff works fast!" She helped push Danny back onto the bed. "It's amazing how he keeps falling asleep sitting up."

"Yeah," Jazz laughed, still unnerved about what her brother had said to them just moments earlier. Had he really thought they had put something in that medicine? Surely not—why would he? But, she bit her lips, trying to block out the other thoughts she knew were coming. Hopefully, they wouldn't ever have to deal with it, but what if he did start thinking of them as enemies? Then what would they do? If they weren't able to keep his trust and he didn't view them as friends or family, what would happen then? She shrugged the thoughts away, telling herself that they would figure out what was wrong before it got to that point. They  _had_  to.

Tucker and Sam were both standing in silence now, also processing everything Danny had just said. Jazz wondered if they were thinking similar thoughts. Realizing they were wasting time she startled them out of their reveries, "Tucker, carry him back to my car. We need to go."

Tucker groaned, "Do I look like some kind of hospital stretcher to you? He  _is_  heavy," he complained, hoisting his friend over his shoulder with some help from Jazz and Sam.

"Please, I gotta go grab some stuff. Sam can't do it. Be careful." She dashed out of the room, anxious to get things together. She didn't want to chance her parents' meeting ending early. Sam stared after her for a moment before turning her attention back to Tucker.

"Got him? At least he's not moving or anything. That medicine really knocked him out."

"How come I can't just hold his arms and you hold his feet?" Tucker demanded. "He's like a dead weight."

"Oh, be a man and stop whining," Sam scolded. "Come on," she held the door open for him.

"There is nothing  _manly_  about carrying a guy friend. Okay, if it was a girl, and you don't count, it would be different."

Sam glared at him. "You know, if you weren't carrying Danny I would kick you."

"Haha, I'll be on my guard after I put him down," Tucker chuckled trying to appease Sam. Maybe he should think before he spoke. He knew his friend meant business and she could  _kick_.

"You better."

They made it to Jazz's car without any problems. Sam opened the car door and helped Tucker get Danny settled into the backseat. "Okay, no music with lyrics alluding to insanity this time around."

"Right." Tucker saluted her. "I don't want to go through that again."

Sam hugged herself. "Me, either."

"Where'd all these books come from?" Tucker waved at heaps of books strewn on the floor of the car. "They weren't here earlier, were they?"

"No, they weren't. Jazz probably got them for research."

"This is gonna be fun," Tucker commented dryly.

Sam looked grim. "Hopefully, it'll be fast. This hotel thing  _might_  work a few days,  _tops_. There's no way we can last a week or more. And it's the beginning of the week. Too bad we didn't have a whole weekend for this."

"Yeah, we can only skip school so much."

"Not much, the school calls when we don't show up. And teachers get suspicious when you only show to certain classes. Even Danny's parents will get suspicious after they get called about him so many times."

"Yeah." Tucker agreed. After a moment, his grim face vanished and he grinned. "But this is the best reason I've ever skipped school for. At least I'm not doing it just because I'm bored."

Sam glared at him. "I wish we  _were_  skipping out of boredom."

"Ouch," Tucker made a face as if she had just kicked him. "That hurt. You're right, though. Sorry."

Before Sam could accept his apology, Jazz came out of the front door clutching two bags. After locking the house up, she jogged to the car and threw the bags onto the floor of the passenger's seat.

"More books?" Tucker guessed.

"Yeah," Jazz replied, sliding into the driver's seat. Tucker hopped into the passenger's seat while Sam scrambled around the car to get into the other side of the backseat. Jazz revved the engine and sped away from the house, still paranoid she might see her parents on the way to the motel. It would be the most awkward thing in the world for them to pass each other especially with her car full of Danny's friends. It took about fifteen minutes for them to arrive at their destination.

Sam looked around doubtfully. "Are you sure about this?" she asked Jazz. She and Tucker hadn't been expecting a grand hotel, but they had hoped for a bit more than the faded, gray, crumbling building before them.

"This is bad," Tucker insisted with such honest conviction that Sam was sure even the most disagreeable person would find it hard to argue with him. He went on, "Danny's losing it, he's a partial ghost and we're going to stay a few nights in a place that looks like it's crawling with ghosts?" He shivered. "It's just creepy. You know, in every horror movie, where the person makes a really stupid decision and you go, 'Are they really that stupid?' Well, this right there? This is that part in our lives. I say we run for it and don't look back."

"It does look bad," Sam agreed with all her heart. The place seemed to scream bad news. There weren't many streetlights and the few in the area were very dim. One was even flickering as if they were in some cheap, cheesy horror flick. Across the street, a group of suspicious, unfriendly looking characters had gathered in a deserted parking lot of an abandoned school. Sam couldn't decide if they were a gang, drug peddlers, or kids with parents really down on their luck. She looked back up at the motel. Like Tucker had said, it looked like a place that would be teeming with ghosts. He had already pulled out his ghost sensor and it was indicating ghost after ghost after ghost.

"Look," Jazz said pointedly. "I  _know_  it's not the Merriott or Hilton, but this is the best I could do. I mean, it's either this, sleeping on the streets, or telling my parents."

"Why not just go to my house?" Tucker asked. "You already told your parents that's where Danny would be."

Jazz stared at him incredulous. "You're just now thinking about this? You don't think I already thought of that? What would we tell  _your_ parents? It would still get back to  _my_  parents."

"Okay, okay," Tucker held up his hands in surrender. "Stupid idea, I know. This is just so creepy!"

"Deal with it," Jazz glanced at the group across the street. "There's not too many people out. Let me go in and get the key. We'll go in through the side."

"You're going to leave us here alone?" Tucker asked in a small voice.

"Well, yeah, Tucker," Jazz said feeling frustrated at having to explain her every action, "I mean we can't just have you lugging Danny through the lobby! It's still not even seven yet! People might be in there getting rooms."

"Crazy people," Sam muttered.

Jazz ignored her and went on, "And we can't leave Danny by himself. It'll only take two minutes," Jazz promised, opening her door. "Make sure the doors are locked." She walked briskly into the hotel not entirely comfortable with leaving the other three in the car. Hopefully, it  _would_  only take two minutes.

Tucker turned back to Sam right away. "This is crazy! Jazz is a lunatic! There's gonna be, like, five hundred ghosts haunting the place. There's some gang across the street and the hotel looks like it'll hit the ground if it rains!"

"I know, I know," Sam sighed. "But we can't do much else."

"Finding a nice neighborhood and sleeping on the street might be a better option."

"Nice neighborhoods don't  _let_  you sleep on the street."

Before Tucker could retort, Jazz returned breathless. "I got the key," she held it up and jingled it as if to prove that she really had it. "See, it didn't take any time at all!" She looked apologetically at Tucker. "Unfortunately, the room's upstairs."

"I gotta carry him  _upstairs_?"

"Stop whining," Sam chided. "Let's get this over with." She grabbed a couple bags of books to haul upstairs while Tucker situated Danny over his shoulder again, not happy at all. Jazz managed to carry the rest of the books and led the way upstairs using the less used side stairwell in hopes they wouldn't run into anyone. Tucker made every effort to make sure the girls knew he wasn't thrilled about his new role of "people-carrier."

The corridor their room was on wasn't as deserted as Jazz had hoped. She thought that maybe she should've waited longer to check in but she couldn't change that now. A couple of young kids raced towards them, shouting and laughing, unaware of how loud they were being. A woman, Jazz assumed to be their mother, was chasing them looking beyond angry. The kids shot Jazz, Sam, Tucker, and Danny a funny look but kept running. They weren't so lucky with the mother. She halted, regarding the group curiously.

"Need help?" she asked, obviously hoping for an explanation. Dragging unconscious, under-aged individuals into a hotel room at night was usually cause for concern.

"Oh, no, we're fine," Jazz assured her hoping she sounded more convincing than she felt.

"Oh, okay," the woman glanced around. "Are your parents here?"

A short silence ensued before Sam thought of something. "Oh, they're—they're at dinner. They said they would meet us here after they finished."

Tucker nodded, adding, "Well, our mother is. We, uh, our dad isn't around."

Sam elbowed him in the ribs, stopping him from elaborating any further. The woman gave them a pitying look as if she had just stumbled onto a litter of abandoned puppies. "That's too bad. If you need anything, I'm in room 204." She jerked her thumb in the direction of her room, down the hall. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some kids to catch!"

"Uh, thanks," Sam managed to get out before the woman took off again. She glared at Tucker. "What was that? 'Our dad isn't around?'" She shook her head.

Tucker shrugged. "It worked."

They made it further down the hall when a tall, well-muscled man with a string of tattoos on the length of his arms stepped outside. He wore sunglasses and light shone off his shaved head. Spotting them, he let out a deep, guttural laugh amused at the sight. "Yeah, too much booze'll do that to ya. Be sure ya got coffee ready for the poor kid. Gonna be one heckuva hangover."

"T-t-thanks," Jazz stuttered as the man walked off, shaking his head and laughing. She picked up her pace. "Come on," she whispered fiercely, determined to get out of the hall. Sam and Tucker had both lost color in their faces.

Sam whispered, "We are in such..."

"Hot water," Tucker quickly supplied.

"It's not even funny," Sam concluded.

Jazz stopped at a door, shoved the key in and pushed the door open, anxious to get inside. Tucker and Sam entered and both tried not to look any more horrified than what they already felt. The overhead light didn't work, a lamp on the nightstand dimly lit the room. The walls and ceiling were a gross yellowish-gray color and paint was chipping everywhere. Two metal chairs, covered in rust, were leaning up against the far wall. Next to them, from a rod that almost touched the ceiling, hung stained, ugly, drab-colored drapes. The drapes ended in bunches at the floor almost like they wished they could go through it and get out of that sad little room. Whatever was behind them, must not have been closed because the room was chilly.

"There's only one bed," Sam pointed out. A lone twin bed, messily made, was positioned next to the nightstand. Sam thought if she could snap a picture of the room, she would post it on Deviantart with the title "Despair." It would have a caption that read, "The picture of sadness and loneliness, the miserable little motel room caved in on itself, crushing its existence in the hopes of escaping the unwanted claws of despair." A bit dramatic, but Sam was positive she would never, ever  _want_  to spend a night in this room or any that looked the least bit similar. Much less  _pay_  for it. This really was for the people with the worst luck in the world or those that could never quite get their lives together, minds too drug addled to realize how far they had fallen. The scent of the room definitely spoke the drug usage its walls had seen.

Tucker and Jazz both looked as if they were second-guessing this whole thing, but neither spoke for a few minutes. Finally, it registered with Jazz that Sam had said something.

"I picked the cheapest option. The ones with two beds or double beds were too much. I can barely afford this. Well, I can't. I have to work for it," Jazz was suddenly combative in her response practically daring them to ask her if they could leave. She dumped her books onto the floor while Tucker put Danny in the bed. Sam tossed her books to the floor and shut and locked the door.

"It only has a chain, no bolt," she observed aloud. "You know, besides the lock in the knob." She was pretty sure other hotels she'd stayed in with her parents had a separate bolt and chain other than the lock in the knob.

"Like I said," Jazz was defensive again, "the best I could do."

"I wasn't saying anything bad about you. I'm sure they're all like this."  _Geeze, chill out already_ , she added, but didn't think saying it would help matters. After all, she could hardly blame Jazz. She was freaking out herself.

"I guess I'll call my parents and tell them I'm staying at Danny's," Tucker said, hoping to relieve some of the tension in the room. He looked over at Sam. "Could I use your phone?"

"Don't you have a phone?" Jazz asked.

"Yeah, but I went over my texting limit and my parents took it away."

"Don't have unlimited?"

"No, they didn't think it was worth it. Bet they do now."

"Here," Sam handed him her cell phone. "I'll just call mine after. Say I'm staying at a friend's house or something."

"I already called mine," Jazz reminded them, plopping into one of the rusty chairs. It squeaked miserably as if it wouldn't be able to hold even her meager weight. They waited, half expecting it to fall out from under her, but, when it didn't, she grabbed a book and flipped it open. She was eager to see if the books could provide them with any clues as to why Danny had so suddenly snapped.

"Do you  _have_ a project due?" Sam wanted to know remembering what Jazz had told her parents about staying with a partner for a project.

Jazz looked up from her book for a minute. "Actually, yes, but not until the end of next week."

Tucker took the phone away from his ear, annoyed. "No signal."

"There's a balcony," Jazz pointed to the dreary drapes. Tucker approached them and hesitantly pulled them back, half expecting some lunatic to pop out of the thick folds. He finally managed to pull them apart and laughed. Not a true laugh, but a laugh one usually manages when they realize just how bad off they are and think,  _Of course! Why wasn't I expecting this?! Isn't this what always happens?_

"What?" Sam asked and Jazz leaned forward in her chair to peer out the drapes.

A very tiny balcony missing half it's railing was there. However, there was no door. There had been one-what was left of it glittered in the sunset on the balcony. Tucker figured the glass door must've busted sometime ago, because there weren't as many fragments as he would've expected. Even so, he was not going to step outside onto that ugly, weak-looking balcony. He leaned out with the cell pressed to his ear hoping for reception. He got it and was soon talking to his mother.

Sam joined Jazz taking a seat in the other rusty chair. "You really think we'll find something in these books?" she asked picking one up.

Jazz shrugged. "You never know until you try. I hope so."

Sam made her phone call after Tucker was finished and soon she, Jazz, and Tucker were each flipping restlessly through books, trying to absorb any and all information they could about paranormal activities that might have some effect on Danny.

At one point, Sam finally realized there was a certain issue they had never addressed. "How are we going to go to school?"

Jazz shut her book using her finger as a bookmark. "I figured we could try to alternate. One person go, while two stay with Danny. We could call for each other to excuse us so the school won't call our parents. At least, I hope they won't. "

"How do we explain the absentees on our progress reports?" Tucker asked worriedly.

Sam looked amazed. "Your parents actually look at that? I don't think my parents even know it's there."

"Mine will find some way to relate it to ghosts and if they don't,  _I'll_  find some way to relate it to ghosts for them," Jazz seemed confident that her parents wouldn't be much of a problem. "Don't worry, Tucker, we'll think of something. We shouldn't each miss more than one day." Tucker and Sam hoped Jazz's optimistic estimate would be right. They weren't so sure. "Okay, who'll go tomorrow?"

Jazz and Sam both stayed quiet. Tucker shrugged. "I will. No biggie."

Having resolved that issue, they each returned to their books, hoping the faster they soaked up all the information they could, the faster they could get out of that room and have Danny back to normal. He was still out cold thanks to the sleeping medicine ministered to him.

A few hours passed and Tucker shut his book shut with a sigh. It was the second one he'd skimmed. The books were so thick and some of it was so confusing Tucker had to reread parts of it again and again, taking notes on what he thought might be important. Sam was on her fourth and Jazz had just opened her sixth.

"I've got nothing," he said around a yawn.

"You've only been through two books," Sam pointed out giving him a look.

"They were super thick!" he protested. "Maybe it  _isn't_  the paranormal activity that's driving Danny crazy." He met Jazz's eyes. "Do you know anyone in your family..." he trailed off at her glare.

"Tucker, I've been through my family tree so many times, trying to figure out why my  _parents_  are crazy. They are  _definitely_  the craziest people in our entire family." She paused. "But they aren't  _this_ kind of crazy," she waved a hand in Danny's direction. "So, no, I'm fairly certain it's not genetic."

"Well, what else could drive a person insane?" Sam asked thoughtfully.

"Apparently, seeing your best friends get attacked or killed," Tucker answered. "Hope that wasn't foreshadowing by the way," he added as an afterthought. Sam and Jazz both stared at him.

"Attacked and killed?" Jazz repeated.

Sam frowned, confused. "What? Who'd he see die?"

Tucker sighed regretting he had said anything. He really didn't want to relate the events of the bathroom to the girls. Danny would be so mortified but they needed to know. He explained what had happened, sparing no details.

"That's bad," Jazz shook her head after hearing the story. "No wonder he freaked out when that song came on."

"Yeah."

Jazz bit her lip. "I think we're right about the paranormal connection, though. I mean, if he'd had some traumatic life-altering experience or event that involved a girl then I'd say maybe not. But, since he's the only one seeing it, and, up until last year, he's led an average, ordinary life. I think we should focus on the ghost aspect."

Sam blinked. "Wow, you really sound like some kind of expert."

Tucker nodded also impressed. "Yup, leaps and bounds ahead of me in the knowledge department."

Jazz blushed lightly and tried to look as annoyed as she could. "This is  _serious!_ " She flipped a page in her book pretending to read again. She smiled to herself pleased with the compliments. Tucker and Sam both exchanged small smiles before returning to their reading.

Another hour passed with the three reading so much that words were starting to blur together. About half past midnight, Tucker couldn't stay awake any longer and made a make-shift pallet on the floor with some extra sheets they'd gotten from the front desk. He wished the girls luck and fell into a deep sleep right away.

Jazz and Sam kept reading, hoping something would jump out at them. It was beginning to seem hopeless. They had gone through book after book after book. Jazz was already on her ninth book and Sam was midway through her fifth. Tucker had managed to knock out three books. Altogether, they had managed to plow through more than ten books, short and long, and nothing looked promising or seemed encouraging at all. They each had a notepad so they could note anything they thought might be important. Jazz's had neat notes all over it, but she doubted most were even relevant to the cause. She simply noted stuff that she thought they should know. She hadn't come across anything she thought would actually help her brother. Tucker had scribbles everywhere but had admitted he doubted any would help. Sam had only managed to fill two pages with stuff she thought was important.

It was past three and Sam and Jazz were still awake. Sam kept blinking hard forcing herself to understand what she was reading. The words seemed to be spinning on the page and her eyes were watery. Jazz's eyes had glazed over sometime ago and heavy bags had formed under them. Sam had just fallen into a light doze when she heard a sudden intake of breath. Opening her eyes, she glanced at Danny fearing the worst. He was still out cold. Tucker lay on the floor snoring heavily. That left only one person. She turned to Jazz. Teal eyes were wide and bright with excitement. She sat straight in her chair, no longer hunched over. Sam leaned forward her curiosity overcoming her tiredness. "What?" she whispered. "What'd you find?"

Jazz grinned and looked over at Sam. With her dark circles and a tired smile, Jazz looked much older than she should. Sam realized that she probably didn't look much better herself. Jazz pointed down at the book in her lap, still grinning, "I think I found something. It's not much. But it might help. Maybe."

"A maybe is better than nothing." Sam couldn't help but grin, too. A burst of energy shot through her and she leaned even closer to Jazz, wanting to glimpse the information that had brought life into Jazz's tired eyes. "What is it?"


	6. Chapter 6

Vibrant colors ceased to exist in the world. Only white and gray remained present and filled the world, painting a sad and gloomy picture. The white expanse seemed to stretch on for eternity, only a few decrepit gray buildings clustered in one area lent a sense of definition to the otherwise blank landscape. They were positioned as if they had once been part of a bustling plaza full of shoppers and employees but now abandoned by all who had ever entered into their shadows. The bright whiteness practically washed them out and Danny wasn't surprised that it had been abandoned. It certainly didn't look enticing and he couldn't help but wonder if anyone had ever actually graced its halls with their wallets and time. Standing and shivering in the middle of the empty plaza, he hugged himself, trying to warm up if even just a little. It was so cold. He wasn't sure how or when he'd dropped into this place. To make the bitter cold and faded buildings seem even worse was the snow that was falling in heaps around and on him. It didn't add the slightest hint of color to the area, the white flakes falling from and into the brilliant white that surrounded him on all sides. The gray buildings that formed a semi circle around him were the only way he could determine which way was up and which way was down. Without them, there wouldn't be any definition at all. He still couldn't say for sure, but it just didn't seem as important as it once did.

It was a strange type of snow. It came from every which direction and when it hit him, it burned. His energy had drained awhile ago and he stood rooted to the spot, simply allowing his body to be burned, teeth ground together and pained hisses escaping through every few minutes when the burning sensation built up to a certain level. He didn't have the energy or will to seek cover in the dilapidated buildings. Logically, he knew this would be the best course of action to take but every time he tried to will his foot to move, he found he simply couldn't. To boot, with a few more glances around the area, it looked as though the buildings lacked real doors. There was the outline of doors as though someone had penciled them in with a darker shade of gray than the building, but no knobs and they didn't look anywhere near as real as the windows. He supposed he could try to get into a window, but with a glimpse, all that was inside was simply gray. There was no way to even be sure that if he spent energy and effort into getting into one that there wasn't something worse than the snow waiting for him. Snow kept piling around and on him while he stood shivering. With a downcast glance, he noticed it would reach his knees soon but wasn't alarmed or even concerned. He didn't bother shaking it off or even simply stepping out of it. Simply let it pile up higher and higher around his legs and mat into his hair.

His thoughts were slow and it took him longer than he would have liked to admit to string together just one or two coherent thoughts that were more than just random words. There was some reason he needed to get out of the burning snow, but his mind kept coming up short, or maybe the words in his thoughts were too mixed up to truly be capable of recalling the reason much less actually physically moving. He wasn't even sure how or when he had lost all his energy and why forming logical thoughts had become such a hard task. Like his mind was slipping slowly from his grasp, he was losing all the parts of him that helped make him who he was. Next his body and soul would escape from his usually tight hold.

"Wooow," a voice sang, bringing some kind of life to the bleary area. Danny's eyes shifted to the right a little. He didn't even bother trying to turn his head in its direction, somehow knowing the person would come into view given a few seconds. Somewhere in the back of his mind a little voice was begging him to get a grip because the voice that had just spoken was the current source of all his problems. The alarms that were going off in his mind quickly unraveled into nonsense and, unsure what had caused trepidation to seep into him, he continued staring ahead dispassionately. He didn't want to speak or do anything. He was too tired. Vaguely, he wondered why the place couldn't just absorb him into it.

The owner of the voice came into his line of vision and that nameless girl was with him yet again. She locked eyes with him and waved her arms around at the plaza. "This is just-wow," she breathed, eyes wide with wonder. Danny was unimpressed and refused to be baited into conversation and ask her what was so 'wow' about the place. As far as he was concerned the only thing 'wow' about the place was that some person had the audacity to build a place that could draw a person into depression based on sight alone.

She spun around a couple times, making a huge deal of taking the place in like they had just conquered Mount Everest and were witnessing majestic beauty from the highest peak in the world. She returned her attention to him with wide eyes. Despite his best efforts to make no response, he flinched. Those  _eyes._  They were so glazed that it hurt to look at them. Unfazed by his discomfort she asked, "Isn't this amazing?"

Still not feeling the energy or any desire to speak, Danny simply raised his eyebrows in question.

A bright smile lit up her face. "You want to know why it's so amazing?" There was no pause for him to answer and he found himself to be grateful for it. "Simple. Once, it was so full of life, energized by human activity and interaction. But, now, it's abandoned. Forgotten. Dead. No one even remembers it. Isn't that crazy amazing? That something that was once so grand can be so completely forgotten about now?" Her cheery voice dropped to a serious whisper, "Just a shadow of what it once was." The demeanor had changed so suddenly, Danny was unable to hide the surprise evident in his face. Her shoulders drooped and her eyes roamed over the place. He hadn't seen her with that in her eyes.  _Sympathy._  Silence ruled over them for countless minutes, maybe even hours. Danny wasn't sure if time even existed in this place. Snow continued to pile up around his legs until it reached past his knees, almost snowing his legs in completely. He finally found some reserve of energy and spoke.

"Why did you tell me that?" he asked. Ragged and raspy, it was a miracle his voice hadn't cracked with the question. It had expected it to sound that awful. He was just pleased he could still ground out a whole sentence without stuttering despite the cold. It had taken so much energy just to get out those few words. This place was terrible and he felt as dead the buildings looked.

"Well," she stood on her tiptoes and stretched her hands out over her head, looking thoughtful. "Doesn't it remind you of life?"

He stared at her blankly. Realizing he didn't understand her thoughts, she explained, "In life, you're full of activity, people always coming and going, becoming aware of yours and others' emotions, figuring out what makes you tick, trying to discover what makes others tick, trying to understand yourself and loved ones." Her voice was full of passion and, for a minute, Danny had forgotten that a lunatic was standing before him. It sounded as though she really valued life and the lives of others. The passion dissipated from her voice and she concluded flatly, "Then you die." She glanced around the plaza again before continuing, "People come to remember you, but they trickle away and eventually fall into their own graves. Soon no one visits and you're only left with the company of a caretaker who never knew you and is only paid to even be there in the first place. There is no love or care in that."

The silence that followed to punctuated her point as if reality itself were agreeing with her. Danny looked at her before replying with a blunt, "That's depressing."

Life was full of surprises because she actually nodded. "But it's true, isn't it?"

Something tugged at his heart. He wanted to say 'no.' He wanted to scream and argue with her and make her see that it wasn't true, but he mulled over it for a few moments and found that he couldn't figure out  _why_  he wanted to say no. It was true. There was some reason, he was sure, but it eluded him. Finally, he gave up. "Yeah, I guess so," he agreed, though it was the most painful admission he could ever recall making. It felt almost like he had just written off his future and sold any future kids he'd have to her. As if he'd just given up and thrown aside something very precious. Dizzying thoughts spiraled through his mind trying to correct and offer up alternatives to what he'd just said, but none of them made any sense or formed a fully coherent thought. He was simply left with a broken resolve and half thoughts as to why this shouldn't be playing out as it was.

A sage nod and then violet eyes were piercing his own. Like so many times before, he found he couldn't tear his gaze away. That crazy glow gave off a creepy iridescent look to the identical pools of violet. "Yes," she said, "Yes, it's true. It's a shame people bother building plazas in life. It's so wasteful. People are so stupid, so ignorant." A hand shot out and waved at the plaza they were standing in. "This is the reward they get for all their valiant efforts. Ever so pointless." Two steps closer to Danny and he desperately wished his feet would move. Accusation rang clear in her voice as she went on. "You're one of those people. You're not very bright, are you? You wanted a plaza, too. You did, I can tell. Didn't you? Didn't you want a plaza?"

Desperation and horror fueled energy to tunnel back into Danny's bones as the girl's psychotic eyes burned into his frightened ones. Her beliefs were scary and horribly depressing, but Danny was becoming frightened for an entirely different reason. Crystal clear comprehension of every word she had spoken was forming in his mind, as if these were all the logical thoughts that had unraveled into the horrible heap of incoherent thoughts he couldn't string together. At her words, they were rising from the heap and spinning into strings of perfect logic. One logical thought fleeted across his mind before it burst into nothingness, just a whisper of a warning of things to come. It was not good that he was relating to her on this particular subject. That was bad thing. The thought was gone before it even finished forming, though, being replaced with this new, odd bundle of thoughts that didn't feel like they were entirely his. Almost as though someone was guiding them into his mind. The snow encased his legs and kept him firmly in place so he didn't move or back-pedal away from her when she leant in closer and rested her forehead lightly on his. It was an intimate and frightening gesture, one that was not appreciate by Danny, but he felt too helpless to move even in the slightest, their eyes still holding each other's in the most intense gaze any person had ever experienced.

"You thought you could build a successful plaza? You thought cheating would help you? You thought yours would last longer and be better that way?" The questions fell from upturned lips and a quiet but sincere voice.

Words were dying in his throat. He couldn't argue with her, he didn't know how to. Even if his mind had been in such a mess, he wasn't sure he could protest any of that with logical thoughts. One would think the many illogical and bizarre thoughts bouncing around his mind could match her outlandish ones, but he came up empty each time he tried to grab onto some protest that made sense. There was something about her questions; an honest quality to each one as though they were actually legit questions. Finally, between the thoughts that felt fake and the ones that felt real but made no sense, he managed to string together a question that he hoped would solve this mess. "Who are you?" he whispered hoarsely.

The warmth on his forehead vanished as she pulled away, her tangent about plazas, cheating, and life seemingly forgotten. "The million dollar question. Who  _am_  I? Please let me know when you figure it out."

"I don't know," his voice was stronger now. He didn't know, he couldn't know,  _he_  was  _not_  the loon in these parts. A few thoughts became clear and steady and he clung to them desperately.  _She_  was, it was  _her._ A tiny voice told him he shouldn't have to try so hard to convince himself of that. The insistent thought of his sanity were fading and rapidly at that. He tried to hold tighter and bring them to the forefront of his mind, but they were disintegrating and fading away like water through fingers.

"Then feel free to call me that." Danny didn't respond, the renewed energy he had felt earlier quickly draining out of him as he tried to sort out his thoughts and focus on her. Her words made almost as little sense as his thoughts at times and other times made more sense. Even the thoughts that she was his enemy were becoming fewer and no longer had a sense of urgency attached to them. Flakes fell from her hair with a shake of her head. "Maybe you wanted me here." Dimly, Danny wondered if the snow bothered her the same way it did him.

"No," Danny denied that possibility right away. There was  _no_  way he wanted this kind of crazy disturbance in his life. That was one thought he didn't have any trouble finding.

She shrugged, not insulted in the slightest bit. "Well, what about your friends? Why am I here and they aren't?"

He opened his mouth, thinking he knew the answer, but stopped short. Where were his friends? He reached into his mind for the answer. It was there. After some time, much longer than he'd care to admit, he finally remembered what the problem was. "You're keeping me from them," he accused.

Genuine surprise sparked onto her features. A hand was placed to her chest, trying to underline just how surprised and innocent she was in this matter. "You think  _I_ am keeping you from your friends? No, I  _am_  sorry, but that is actually all your own fault. You are the one who won't go to them. I haven't bound you and I couldn't unless you wanted me to."

No, no, now she was back to making absolutely no sense at all. All the thoughts in his mind stilled and exploded into fragments of what they once were. She was saying things about him again. Things he didn't completely understand but understood enough to know she was hinting that he was somehow orchestrating this whole bizarre situation.

"Are you sure they were your friends? Hey, if you didn't know I existed but here I am, how do you know they ever existed? Maybe you have things all confused?"

_I need to get out of here, I need to get out of here, I need to get away!_  The thought was frenzied, agitated, and repetitive. The only one that had pieced itself back together in his mind with urgency and lucidity. Frantically, he tried to break free of the snow that kept him rooted to the spot. Wetness trailed down his cheeks and he didn't think it was from the snow. The next thought burst through his mind, like a rose opening up to the world. She was trying to twist his reality by manipulating his thoughts, she was guiding his thoughts along. He tried to focus on those thoughts. He could not forget that she was not on his side, she wanted something, he just wasn't sure what. He couldn't forget. His friends were real. His family was real. He was real.  _She_ wasn't real. All thoughts halted and he blanked. Wait, she  _wasn't_  real? But, that would mean he did make her up and he was convinced he hadn't. Like a rose wilting before its time, his earlier lucid and insightful thought vanished from the spaces of his mind, nothing but seeds of doubt to replace it. He felt himself slumping into the snow, only one thought reverberating through his mind: That would make  _him_  the crazy person here.

Through his fuzzy haze, he could hear her voice, "You didn't honestly think  _I_  was the crazy one, right?"


	7. Chapter 7

A scream tore through the air. Jazz's book fell to the floor as she and Sam jumped out of their chairs. Tucker shot up in his sleeping bag, blinking rapidly and shaking his head, trying to remember where he was and what was going on. Another scream ripped from Danny's throat and the raggedy comforter was thrown to the floor as he tossed and turned in agitation. It took a moment for the oldest of them to shove all her shock and horror to the back of her mind and rush to her brother's side. Right now she needed to act, not dwell on the terror that was consuming her life. Solutions were non existence within her many idea so unable to think of anything else, she clamped her hand firmly over her brother's mouth. Too tired to even shudder or be bothered by the feel of saliva on her palm. More attention drawn to them was the last thing they needed and screams from their room in the dead of the night was sure to get them some. A hotel swarming with authorities and journalists was the last thing they needed. The authorities would probably be even less thrilled than them. A young and upcoming journalist would be absolutely tickled pink to write something like this up.

Sam was on the other side of Danny, trying to calm him, mumbling soft assurances. Jazz was struggling to keep her hand over his mouth. His nails kept digging into her skin a he desperately clawed at her hands. Both siblings winced in pain several times. The frenzied activity finally registered in Tucker's sleep-fogged mind and he flung his sleeping bag aside. He made his way to the bed also anxious to help.

"Get me the sleeping medicine!" Jazz ordered him, pointing at her backpack with her one momentarily free hand. Danny lashed out at Jazz again. She grabbed one hand while Sam caught the other. He was thrashing now and both girls exchanged terrified looks. Jazz could only pray they could force more sleeping medicine down him. Vaguely, she wondered about the warnings on the label; they had yet to use that much, but at this rate, they were bound to at sooner rather than later. Tucker made a mad dash for the sack. Grabbing it, he frantically began digging through it. There was so much stuff packed into it. "Just dump it!" she cried as she and Sam continued to struggle with Danny. Tucker did as told and shook all the contents out. A bottle of the medicine rolled out of a pajama shirt. He snatched it up off the floor. He did a double take noticing the spoon among the other contents of the bag. Stooping back down, he picked it up before hurrying to Jazz's side. She gave him a look and Tucker was quick to unscrew the medicine bottle and shakily pour a spoonful. Some sloshed over and onto the floor. He briefly wondered how Jazz had managed to get this strange sleeping medication, but something more important was bothering him in regards to the medicine.

"Is this safe?" he asked worriedly. How much medicine had they been dousing his friend with? Wasn't this a big no-no?

"I've been writing down the dosages and have been  _very_ careful. He's my brother. I won't OD him." Of course Jazz was already all over it. He should have known. Jazz herself made sure her voice sounded more confident that how she actually felt. It was true, she had been keeping track, but you could only give someone so much. Really, though, their choices were limited; either give him too much sleeping medication or have him yell and possibly hurt himself or something else throughout the night. The thought that maybe her parents would the better option crossed her mind, but she simply didn't want to go down that road yet. Not until they had exhausted these options. It hadn't yet been a full day.

Sam's voice had tapered into a miserable lull, asking Danny to please open his eyes and assuring him that all was okay. From her expression, it was clear she didn't believe her own words and Danny wasn't able to hear them so no comfort was drawn from them.

"Danny!" Jazz cried, voice rising above Sam's soft murmurs and Danny's cries. A hard and firm shake of his shoulder and her brother stilled. All noise was sucked out and the area became alarmingly silent with the only sound being that of the light wind ruffling their thick drapes. Jazz's grip tightened on his shoulders and shook him again. A groan sounded from him and she believed they were getting somewhere. He must be coming to. It was ironic that a second ago she had wanted him to fall back into a quiet sleep but now she wanted him to wake up. "Danny!  _Wake up!_  Open your eyes!" The last dosage she had given him should have worn off some time ago. She was surprised he hadn't woken up prior to this. In her mind, it would be best to simply administer the medication to a conscious and willing being than trying to jam it down his throat and hoping he swallowed. Another groan from her brother and her she waited for him to awake. It looked like he was trying to force his eyes open. He groaned again and Jazz shook him harder and a little longer than the last two times.

"Snow burrrnss," Danny slurred, looking at his sister through half-lidded eyes. "Stuuuck in snow." His voice had an edge of desperation to it. "No name, won't tell."

Jazz tight grip on his shoulders became a painful squeeze at his words. "Danny," she said evenly, keeping her voice steady but loud so he could hopefully understand and trust her words. "We're right here for you," her voice was smooth as silk and as reassuring as she could make it. "We won't let anything bad happen to you." A few moments of silence as she met her brother's eyes, her own clear with sincerity. "Me and Tucker and Sam are here for you. We just need you need to take this," she shot a look at Tucker who moved closer with the spoonful of medicine. She assured him, "It'll help you." Danny looked at Jazz warily then turned his gaze to the silver spoon that trembled in Tucker's hand. The liquid sloshed and some dripped over the silver.

"More?" He asked doubtfully and there was no mistaking the suspicion in his question. His trust in them was fading and fast. Sam and Tucker remained quiet, unsure what to say. Jazz wished she wasn't the one who always had to talk.

"Yes, Danny, this is going to help you get more rest while we figure out what's going on with you." She avoided using the word "wrong" not wanting to panic him any further.

He gave a weak shake of his head. "No, you want to send me back to the burning snow," his was voice low and uneven. Jazz's hold on his shoulders loosened in disbelief at the accusation.

"Danny, I don't want to send you anywhere you don't want to go," she began slowly, choosing her words with great care. It felt as though she was preparing a persuasive speech for a seminar at the last moment, but her only audience was the three in the room with Danny being the only target. "It's just I know you don't want to hurt anyone and when you're up and you see that girl," Jazz paused as Danny visibly stiffened and even gasped as if just hearing her existence being hinted at caused him physical pain. She took note and continued, "You kind of lash out and hit things by accident. It won't be too much longer, I promise." Jazz finished with warnings of not making promises you can't keep echoing through her head. She banished them from her thoughts, refusing to believe there was no way she could help. There  _had_  to be a way. It was just a matter of finding it. Every problem had a solution.

Danny stared at her for a long moment before looking over at Tucker and then Sam. Each shifted uncomfortably under his intense stare. He finally looked back at Jazz. "C-can I ask you a question?" he asked his voice shaking with each word.

"Of course," Jazz was quick to assure him taking the medicine from Tucker slowly and with care. "But will you take this after?"

Danny nodded. It took him a moment to build the courage, but he finally asked the question. "Would you still help me even if you w-weren't real?" The tentative question hung in the air as the other three tried to fully process what he had just asked them.

"Danny," Sam reached over and squeezed his hand. "We are real."

He didn't look convinced. "But if you weren't would you still help me? I like it better here than in the burning snow." His eyes were welling up with tears. "I don't want to go back to the snow. Even if it is real. Don't like it."

"What snow?" Tucker asked.

"Burns," Danny replied quietly as his eyes began sliding shut like he had used up all his energy. Jazz was quick to shake him.

"I'm sorry, Danny, but you  _have_  to take this," she told him. She didn't think she could take any more sudden screams. The medicine had seemed to keep those at bay though it had obviously not given him the dreamless sleep she had hoped for. He gave another weak nod of his head and allowed Jazz to administer the medicine to him.

"Burns," he insisted, desperation making its way back into his voice. "Snow hurts. Plaza is so sad and lonely. No color," he was speaking with such earnest and sounded so sad. "No color," he repeated. "All gray. Don't like," he mumbled before his eyes slid firmly shut and he fell back into a slumber that Jazz knew would only provide her and his friends relief while offering none to the one who most needed it. None of his words made any sense at all.

Jazz brought her fist to her mouth and bit down on it, trying to overcome her helplessness at her brother's situation. Anger coursed through her veins, but she didn't know who to aim it at. She wanted to grab her brother's shoulders and shake sense back into him, but he couldn't help what was happening and she knew that would not help matters any. She certainly couldn't pin this on Tucker or Sam and she knew she had nothing to do with it. She willed herself not to scream.

Tucker took deep breaths, trying to calm himself. There was no way he was going to fall back asleep. That had been almost as horrifying as when he'd been in the bathroom at the theater. Danny sounded like he belonged in an asylum. All this bizarre talk of colors, plazas, and snow. It hadn't even snowed yet this season. He glanced at his watch. School still wouldn't be starting for a few hours and he had this suspicion he was going to conk out in more than one class. Noisy classrooms would be peaceful compared to this.

Sam closed her eyes and tried to focus her thoughts. Danny's outburst had distracted them from something. It was something important. A light went off in her head and she turned to Jazz. "What did you want to show me? You thought it might help."

Jazz stared at Danny doubtfully. She wasn't so sure anymore. "I thought, but," she blinked back tears, "maybe something is actually wrong with him."

Sam gave her an odd look. "There  _is_  something wrong with him."

"With his head."

"Oh, you don't think it's the paranormal anymore?"

"I don't know."

Tucker listened to the two try to talk. They were clearly shaken and both their voices sounded strange. He spoke up and realized he didn't sound much better. "Look, I don't know if it's the paranormal, either, but if you think you might have something let's see it. Might as well."

The girls nodded in agreement and Jazz shakily picked her book up from the floor. She flipped through it trying to find the spot she had been at. She pursed her lips. "Did you two read about the classes of ghosts?"

Sam nodded. She was really surprised that they hadn't thought to put forth this much research into the paranormal world before now. It would have been good to have this kind of knowledge before now. The inhabitants of the ghost world were either known as common or advanced ghosts. The common ghosts were those that could only haunt places for a certain period of time. They could frighten humans and they were usually trying to build the stamina to become an advanced ghost. Most of the ghosts they had dealt with were common ghosts. It had simply never crossed her mind to actually research this extensively figuring Danny knew what he needed to know and they usually figured stuff out on the fly anyway. However, the knowledge was definitely appreciated.

Advanced ghosts were given the power to haunt humans. When she'd first read about them, Sam had thought that this kind of ghost must be what they were dealing with. All the information on them had diminished that idea. Advanced ghosts usually performed simple haunts that didn't last longer than a couple days. In order to retain their advanced status they had to haunt so many people a week. The haunts weren't elaborate. They found a person and would play on their worst fears or phobias. Nowhere did it indicate they would perform a haunt that would have this kind of effect on Danny. Sam pulled away from her own thoughts and returned her attention back to Tucker and Jazz.

Jazz had just finished explaining the two classes to Tucker who had not read about them in his books. He looked confused. "Your parents never talk about advanced or common ghosts," he pointed out.

Jazz shrugged. "Well, they just want to catch  _a_ ghost. They probably know all this. Why go around telling people you're trying to catch a  _common_  ghost if you would be happy catching  _any_  ghost? Besides they have enough trouble convincing people that ghosts are even real to begin with. Can you imagine how much crazier they would sound if they went around explaining all this?"

Sam nodded. "Right, besides it sounds like you could only catch common ghosts. And they sound like most of the ghosts we've dealt with."

"But you two don't think it's an advanced ghost haunting Danny?"

The girls shook their head. They had discussed it with each other already. "It  _could_  be," Sam admitted. "It has only been a few days since he first mentioned her and the advanced ghost doesn't hang around long so maybe she'll have to vanish soon like by tomorrow. It's possible that Danny's worst fear is going insane.  _Maybe_." There was also the uncertainty of when Danny had actually first seen her.

"But you really don't think this is going to disappear any time soon?"

"I really don't think it's an advanced ghost, not a regular one, anyway. All the books indicate that the haunts shouldn't cause anything to this degree regardless of the fears or phobias he might have."

Jazz held up her book. "This is where this comes in. It mentions another class."

Tucker and Sam's ears both perked at this news. Tucker was intrigued, but Sam looked shocked. "What? I read through five books and there were only those two classes mentioned and not often. Only the really in-depth books bothered to make the distinction."

Jazz nodded. "I know. It surprised me, too. It's not much, though. See?" She looked down at the book and read, "'Other ghosts, not fully accepted into the otherworlds, are not given any class by paranormal experts. Many are not aware of their existence. However, they seem to be in a powerful, special class of their own. Common ghosts are unaware of their existence and advanced ghosts avoid them. It's odd as only certain living beings ever seem to have contact with these oddities. Often it is in some form of possession. Exorcists seem to have more information on this particular subject than experts in the ghost field of paranormal activity.'" Jazz looked up from her book. "And that's all it says."

Tucker looked at her doubtfully. "So, it's basically hinting that it's not really a ghost but a demon?"

Jazz shook her head. "I don't think so, I mean, it doesn't say 'demon' and this book has a separate section for demons so why would they put this in the ghost section if that were the case?"

"Either way, it doesn't sound good. Should we look into getting an exorcist?" Sam asked and she felt chills go down her spine. Never had she ever thought she would be considering hiring an exorcist to help one of her friends.

Jazz sighed. "But he's not possessed. I'm pretty sure about that much, anyway. It also has a whole section on possessions and he doesn't seem to be showing any of the signs that one normally would. Not only that but what would we say if Danny went ghost in front of them?" The exorcist would probably think Danny was an evil spirit.

The three fell into a contemplative silence as each tried to process this new information. It had been a bad situation before, but the words in the book and Danny's latest outburst made it seem dire. It wasn't going to be solved in a couple days. The thought hit Jazz like a brick and she fell into her chair. They would  _need_  to seek someone out to help them with this. Obviously, the three of them had no clue what they were doing and Danny wasn't getting any better. It wasn't just going to up and disappear. They'd have to contact an exorcist; it was their only lead.

Sam bit her lips. "It's going to take longer than a couple days," she murmured quickly figuring out Jazz's train of thought. The older girl nodded mutely.

"What are we going to tell our parents? What about school? How long can we stay here?" Questions were falling from Tucker's lips at an anxious pace. He couldn't help it, his worry kicking into high gear, and needing to have some assurance and a sense of normality.

Jazz sighed. "Look, we'll stick with the original plan. Tucker, you can go to school tomorrow." Which was just a few hours away. Tucker would be like the walking dead. She continued, "I'll try looking up an exorcist." Tucker looked ready to protest, but Sam cut in first.

"We're really going to ask an exorcist to look at him?" Sam asked.

"Well," Jazz paused. "I don't know. I want to just talk to him or her on the phone and get more information about these other ghosts. I mean, I don't really think there's anything to be exorcised here."

Tucker and Sam looked over at Danny with raised brows before returning their looks to Jazz. She forced a tiny grin. "Okay, I do wish we could exorcise it out of him, but I think I'm just going to get information." They fell into silence again for a short while before each picked up a book and started skimming through it, though Jazz and Sam quickly dozed off on their notes.

Things had been relatively peaceful for a couple hours. Tucker glanced at his watch, surprised it was already time for him to head out. He marked his spot in the book and stood up, stretching. He made the trek to a nearby bus stop and took the city bus to school, trying his best to avoid eye contact with anybody. He really didn't think he could walk to the school from the motel. The walk would take over an hour. He hoped the school day would pass by quickly so he could get back and help.

He was actually a little excited that they had some direction and how he hoped that the exorcist Jazz contacted would wind up being their answer to all their problems. If he was being totally honest, he was excited because Sam had said there was a  _possibility_  that it was an advanced ghost haunting and would leave today if that were the case. Even though the girls rejected this idea, Tucker was clinging to it for all he was worth. Maybe today would be the end of this horror.

Upon his arrival to school, he quickly deduced that the school day was going to be one of those days that painfully dragged on and on  _and on_. Leaning against the locker next to his was Dash and a few of his friends. They were all smirking and looked very pleased with themselves. Seeing Tucker approach, they all straightened and gave him amused looks.

"Hey, where's that loser friend of yours?" one of them called out in greeting.

"Heard he lost a fight...to  _cardboard!_ " another one snickered.

Tucker gave them all a pointed look. They must have been at the movie theater when Danny had completely lost it. Dash pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. "Yeah, someone go the whole thing on camera." A small image of Danny punching and kicking a giant cardboard movie standee played out on Dash's screen.

Tucker looked horrified for a moment before regaining his composure. "You actually recorded that? We were wondering how many people had nothing better to do with their lives."

"No," Dash answered. He grinned. "I wasn't at the theater this weekend. Someone else was. All I did was type 'freaks' into youtube and guess who turned up?" Tucker was speechless and Dash laughed. He and his friends walked away, a couple of them snorting, "Losers."

Tucker stared at their retreating backs, flabbergasted. He wished he could think of something witty to say, but he was still too shocked that someone had actually posted it on the internet, youtube no less. He really hadn't thought it would happen. A couple girls walked up to him while he was still in his stupor. He recognized one from a class but didn't have classes with her friend.

"Hey," the one he recognized greeted him.

He found his voice, "Hi."

She looked around. "Where's your friend? You know, the guy on youtube?"

Tucker did not like where this conversation was going. "There's a lot of guys on youtube," he said evasively.

"You know him. We see you with him all the time."

"If you already know, why bother asking." He really wasn't sure what he was saying but anything to throw them off.

"Well, you know what?" she looked totally offended now. "I happened to  _really_  like the movie he hates so much."

"He doesn't..." Tucker trailed off. He couldn't go into detail about Danny with them. He shrugged. "Okay. I'll pass it on." They weren't going to let him off the hook that easily. Her friend finally piped up.

"There are better ways to express your opinions. Like editorials. Reviews. That rottentomato site lets you write movie reviews. And throw virtual tomatoes at movies you don't like."

"Acting like that in public is  _not_  cool."

Tucker's locker door slammed shut and he took a deep, calming breath. "All right. I will let him know. He's out sick today but when I see him, I'll pass it on, okay?"

Both girls looked at him before replying in unison, "Karma." They said it as though they were both wise, old sages.

Somehow, Tucker made it through all his morning classes. Not everyone aggravated him, but he did have to field a lot of questions about why Danny was out sick today. Most doubted that he was sick and asked if he was staying away because of the youtube video. It was amazing how many people knew about the stupid thing. Tucker had tried to dodge these questions as best as he could and insisted that Danny was sick. He was relieved when he made it halfway through the day. He sat by himself in the cafeteria picking at his lunch. He had no appetite whatsoever. He kept seeing flashes of his friend losing his mind, and now, if Danny did manage to hold it together he was going to be totally mortified. What if he refused to go to school? He had talked about having to transfer schools if anyone from the school saw him freak out on that standee. It looked like practically the  _whole_  school had seen it! Not to mention any other visitors to youtube who happened to stumble onto that particular video.

Dash went up to the table looking happy as a clam. This was probably one of his favorite days, Tucker thought bitterly. Did the guy really have nothing better to do than to go out of his way to humiliate peers?

"Eating by yourself?" Dash asked. A few of his friends were with him and they laughed.  _Yes, hilarious joke,_  Tucker thought sarcastically. Dash went on, "Your loser friend too embarrassed to show his face? And his girlfriend? She too embarrassed, too?"

Tucker sighed. "Don't you have some brain cells to destroy?" Dash stared at him blankly and Tucker shrugged. "Guess not."

"I think he's insulting me," Dash did not look amused. A fist was thrown and Tucker soon found himself in the nurse's office with an icepack over his right eye. Despite insisting that Dash had caused it, the nurse and other school officials were quite happy to write the incident down as him tripping and hitting his eye on the corner of a table. They had a big game tonight, after all. Couldn't lose a star player. His parents couldn't be reached so he had to settle for finishing his classes.

The rest of the day wasn't more eventful, but a couple of teachers did ask about Danny. One even went on to say he thought the movie in question was brilliant. Tucker had been very grateful when a popular kid in the class was quick to say he had hated the movie and thought Danny should've burned the standee. Tucker had never been so happy to see the end of a school day. He left and headed back to the motel, his parents under the impression he was staying at school after hours for some extracurricular activity.

"What happened to your face?" Sam demanded when Tucker walked in. He looked over at Danny dismayed to see his friend in the same state as when he had left that morning. His hope of it turning out to be an advanced ghost haunting vanished. It would've been over by now. It was disappointing and he'd swear he felt a bit of his spirit wilt away. He turned to Sam.

"What?"

"Is that-is that a black eye?"

Tucker shrugged before taking a seat. "I  _am_  black," he pointed out.

"Don't be like that. You've got a shiner! What happened?"

Sam wasn't going to let it drop. He rolled his eyes. "Dash said some stuff, I said some stuff back, and he punched me." He picked up a book and refused to meet his friend's eyes.

"You couldn't just ignore him?"

"No, okay? He kept pestering me!" He looked up at Sam. "It was awful! Sam, someone  _did_  record Danny trashing that standee  _and_  they posted it on youtube! Dash had it on his cell phone.  _And_  a couple girls came up to me just to tell me it was  _uncool_  for Danny to express his opinion like that.  _And_  a teacher hinted that Danny needed to take anger management classes." Tucker was seething, fists clenched tightly. "It was so annoying. Oh," he unclenched his fists. "But a couple kids did tell me they wanted to form a Trash Lame Movie Standees Club and wanted Danny to be the president."

"Sounds like you were Mr. Popular today," Sam remarked.

"More like Mr. Target," he grumbled in reply. He shook his head and muttered disbelievingly, "It's on youtube."

"We can't do much about it."

"Maybe we should look it up and see what everyone is saying? Maybe people think it was staged."

Sam shrugged. "I guess. But do we really care what people on the internet say? Won't Danny be more worried about what people at school think?"

"Both."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course."

He looked around having finally calmed himself enough to realize someone was missing. "Where's Jazz? I thought two were supposed to stay with him?"

"She doused him with more medicine earlier and she checks in, like, every hour. Turns out part of the deal with the manager is she has to clean rooms."

"For  _this?_  She has to work so we can stay  _here?"_

"It's a room, Tuck."

"Yeah, I know, but..."

"I don't like it, either."

"When will she be back? From work?"

"One."

"In the morning?"

"Yup."

"Oh. Did she call the exorcist?"

Sam grinned madly at him. She had been waiting for him to ask the question. "Yes! She did call a couple earlier before she had to work and we found out some very interesting information." She held something up for him to see. He grabbed it feeling excitement bubble up within him. He skimmed over the papers and his excitement quickly gave way to total confusion.

"Uh, these are papers about your family genealogy," he pointed out. "And obituaries of some of your relatives." He looked at Sam uncertainly. "Okay, I can't pretend this isn't really creepy. What's up? What does this have to do with the exorcist or Danny?"

Sam's grin only broadened. "That's just it. Those exorcists  _were_  full of information because this type of situation usually  _is_  mistaken for possession." She was going to continue but Tucker held up his hands.

"Wait, this happens often?"

"No," Sam shot the idea down quickly. "Neither have ever had it happen to them, but one of them said it sounded like a situation her mentor had encountered and written about. They've gathered information from other exorcists over the years that have also had this problem. It's when people think their loved one is possessed but they aren't and an exorcist gets called in but can't exorcise the spirit. It doesn't happen often enough for them to really figure it out, though. Just enough for them to piece stuff together and know when the situation is beyond their help."

Tucker glanced down at the family genealogies. "And this has something to do with..." he let his question hang, not even sure what exactly he was trying to ask. Sam shot him an annoyed look.

"Let me finish. They've been able to piece together a theory from the other exorcists that have had this problem over the years. They believe it to be a cursed ghost haunting the person."

Now his interest was definitely piquing. "A cursed ghost?" Tucker repeated.

Sam nodded. "There was a common factor in each of these situations the exorcists encountered. According to the one Jazz spoke to, they found out that each of these people had a relative or was close to someone who'd had a relative that was cursed in their life. After being cursed, the person would begin acting strangely and out of character as if they had developed a severe personality disorder. They talked a lot about their death and insisted they had been cursed to anyone who would listen. They're death was also either strange or happened at an institution." Her voice dropped into a conspiratorial whisper. "And the most chilling bit of info is that they insisted they would have vengeance against the one who brought the curse upon them." Sam's voice sounded odd when she spoke the last bit like someone talking to him from beyond.

Tucker shuddered. "So, someone put a curse on someone else, the cursed person died, became a ghost, and would have revenge on the person who cursed them?" He tried summing it up to make sure he was following.

"Well, the exorcists aren't really sure. They don't know if they are still cursed but they do believe the ghost seeks out revenge against the one that cursed them in life either through family or close friends of the family."

The puzzle was starting to look a lot simpler now that he had the bigger picture. At the same instance, though, the picture had become a little too big for his liking. Tucker looked at the genealogies he held in his hands. "You're trying to see if any of your relatives died in an unusual way, were institutionalized, or if they have friends that were. If they died in a weird way, and especially if they were institutionalized prior and sounded crazy, then they would be the cursed person?"

"Exactly," Sam said with a nod and hint of pride gleaming in her eyes. "You're quick, Tuck," she teased playfully.

Rolling his eyes, Tucker began scanning some of the papers in his hands. "So, any luck?" he asked without taking his eyes off the paper.

"Well, we were hoping you could get your family trees together for us along with some obituaries you might have."

"Yes, I have a ton of family obituaries locked in my little safe box," Tucker replied. "Oh, yes, and family trees. I'll have to get the key to the big box of family trees I have stashed under my bed."

Sam sighed. "Tucker," she said warningly.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Tucker looked over at his friend. "But I really don't keep up that much. I mean, other than my great-grandmother who died a few years back, I don't really know of any relatives who have died any time recently. All my grandparents are alive and so are my cousins, aunts, and uncles."

"But what about their friends?" Sam asked, desperation edging into her voice. "It could be one of your relatives that put the curse on their friend."

Tucker stared at his friend, mouth agape. "Do you realize how impossible this is? I mean, I have to go ask every one of my living relatives if they'd had any friends whom they didn't like and, oh by the way, did they happen to  _curse_  that person? I'm sure my relatives are just dying to _tell that_   _story!_ " Tucker's voice had steadily risen with frustration.

Sam blinked, taken aback. "Tucker, I know it looks hard, but..." she trailed off at the look in Tucker's eyes.

" _Looks_  hard, Sam?" he asked incredulously. "It's more than that. You're basically telling me that any of our relatives could have cursed someone and that person is seeking revenge through Danny  _or_ any of our relatives had a close friend who cursed  _them_  and," Tucker paused. "Wait, it would  _have_  to be one of our relatives who cursed someone. If someone had cursed a relative why would they be trying to seek revenge through Danny?"

"Exactly. Also, they try to get revenge while the person who cursed them is still living."

"You and Jazz already thought about all this, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"But if we're all convinced that one of our relatives did the cursing, why are we still looking for a relative who died in a strange way? Their friend wouldn't be related to us."

Sam sighed. "The exorcist basically said to just go through all our family histories and see if we can't find anything we think might be odd. Obituaries, genealogies, any diaries a relative might have left behind, and anything that we thought was even a little bit weird."

"That's it?"

Sam shifted uncomfortably. "Well, Jazz wanted to ask one of them over, but remember? We don't want Danny to go ghost on them."

_Right, right,_  Tucker thought annoyed,  _we always can't get him the help he needs because of this ghost thing._ Granted, Tucker thought it was really cool sometimes, but right about now, it looked like the cons outweighed the pros. He had tried asking his mother if he could spend the night again but she had been furious he had even asked. He was lucky that he had gotten away with spending one school night away from the house. He could spend the night researching his family history and he could use some time this evening to call family members and pry into any dark past one might have. He could say it was for a school project.

"They said once you find the person you suspect, start asking hard questions to get some information out of them. The person in question usually knows how to fix everything," Sam explained. "At least, that's what they're led to believe from previous exorcists' journals."

"Still not a lot to go on but better than nothing. Are you staying here again?" He asked her.

Sam shook her head. "Mom said no way, I'm already pushing it." She sighed. "Never thought I'd be acting like a delinquent. Guess I'll be sneaking out to check on them tonight."

"No." Tucker was shaking his head now. "If anyone comes back tonight, it'll be me. You have to go to school tomorrow and I'd probably be safer at night than you." She was ready to protest, but decided against it and nodded in agreement. Tucker looked back at the documents in his hands. They would be digging deep, trying to find any skeletons one of their relatives might be hiding. With a sudden jolt, Tucker realized this could lead to the destruction of relationships. There was usually a good reason people kept certain things to themselves. Thinking that one of his relatives might have actually been angry enough to curse someone gave him the goosebumps. He shuddered and looked over at Sam.

"You're freaking out now, too," she commented. Knowing that someone she knew and love might have brought such pain to Danny, not to mention caused someone else to die had been a startling and very unwelcome revelation. She knew that she, Jazz, or Tucker would never admit it, but each hoped that it wasn't one of _their_  family members that turned out to be the one responsible for this mess.

"Yeah, and I'm scared it's only going to get freakier," he admitted. It was a strange feeling. He was thrilled they finally had some kind of idea of what was going on, but at the same time, he was terrified at what they might find out. Someone they knew and loved was hiding something big and they would be dragging it out into the open.


	8. Chapter 8

Whiteness swallowed up his world stealing away the colors his friends and sister had graced him with. One thought screeched through Danny's tired mind:  _They sent me back, they sent me back, theysentmeback!_ The pile of snow was back and even higher than before. Lacking the will to even try to muster the energy to free his legs, he simply stood and shivered, taking in the bleak plaza. Snow hugged his waistline and half a though formed that his was a terrible thing before Danny lost his grasp on the warning. Tiredness plagued him but he was unable to simply close his eyes and sleep like he so badly wanted to. Sleep refused to offer him refuge and he wondered why. Anything to escape this place, real or not. He just wanted to get away and forget about all of this. It was all too predictable who would be showing up any moment. That girl. She would be here soon. Time didn't exist here in this strange, barren, white world. He could have been here for hours already or only a few seconds. Either way she would turn up and he was in no hurry to see her.

As if on cue, her voice rang out through the air, "Helloooo!" She popped out from around the corner of one of the buildings and made her way over to Danny. "Did you miss me?" He remained silent. He had learned from the last time here that she would continue talking whether or not he said anything. She came to stand in front of him, "So, what have you been doing? You were supposed to be looking for food, remember?"

_Huh?_  Danny glanced around the area. The possibility of finding traces of food was laughable. She looked at him expectantly. "Uhh," he mumbled, shifting around in the snow a little. That was practically impossible, he still couldn't move. She sighed, folding her arms across her chest.

"I guess you don't remember. Go figure, you're probably too busy daydreaming about some other world you could be in instead of finding food for us to continue to survive. We can't subsist off snow forever, you know?"

Wait, he wasn't ever told that he had to eat in this strange place. He had just assumed that it was as unimportant as time was. He didn't  _want_ to eat, he didn't  _want_ to survive here, he _didn't_ _ **want**_  to! At this point, he figured his best course of action was to simply beg for a way out, "Please, let me out," he pleaded, voice raspy and desperate.

"Let you out of where?"

"Here."

She laughed. "Well, I'd like out, too. But you can't just  _leave_  reality, can you?"

Danny regarded her strangely. Now this  _was_  reality? But before she had told him he had made her up, but now she was real? What would that make the other world with his parents, sister, and friends?

"Not real," he ground out.

"Why would you think that? It's been real for the past couple months of our lives. Look," she uncrossed her arms and sighed sadly, "I know you don't like to talk about the plane crash. I know you lost family and friends, but so did I. Refusing to face reality isn't going to help them," she pointed out. "We have to keep moving forward until we can find a way out of here or we get rescued."

Danny was shaking his head positive she had to be making this up. He would remember a plane crash! "No, just saw them," he insisted.

She gave him a skeptical look. "Did you really? And how did they seem to you? Were they happy?"

It took several long moments for him to pull up the image of his sister and friends and the grimaces and frowns that had been set into their expressions. They had been so panicky. Sam and Tucker had looked so sad and Jazz had looked so anxious and said something about him hurting people without realizing it. Had she been talking about them? They had looked so sad about something.

"Well, were they happy?" she prodded him.

"Sad," he replied with great effort. It was taking everything out of him just to mutter one word. The images vanished almost as soon as he'd said the world and he couldn't recall them again. Thoughts were flopping around in his head imitating fish out of water, completely useless. No memories of any life sprang forward and he waited for her to speak.

She sat down cross-legged in front of him. "You know what I think?" She went on before he could respond. "I think you keep having these strange dreams because you can't let them go. You're saddening their spirits. Don't you want them to move on? You can't keep them chained here forever. You need to tell them it's okay to move on, that you don't want to hold them back anymore. Peace can't be achieved if you don't."

Danny was about to protest that there was  _never_  a plane crash and that she was a few screws loose when he felt the absence of snow around his legs and noise filled the air. The plaza was no longer surrounding him. Instead, he sat at a booth in a restaurant, the strange girl sitting across from him looking a bit older. She was still talking, but he had yet to tune into her, taking in the place with wide-eyed wonder. It was busy with activity. People were coming in and out, servers were running around, and a cashier was working the cash register. His arm was shaken but he still found himself taking in the restaurant in wonder.

"Sweetheart, are you listening to anything I'm saying?" she asked anxiously. His eyes snapped over to hers, the word "sweetheart" not escaping him even in his amazement. She sighed, looking dejected. "We can't keep going on like this. You have to accept what's happened. I know that it's hard, what with happened with your friends when you were younger and now this with your sister, but you can't just keep clamming up like this. It's not healthy."

"What?" Danny squeaked. It was so cold in this place he thought distractedly. Nothing she was saying made any sense.

She reached across the table and grasped his hands. "See? This is what I mean. Lately, you always act like you're only kind of here. Physically, I can see you, but mentally I just don't know anymore."

"Hi, I'll be serving you tonight!" A server stopped in front of their table with a bright smile. "So, can I start you out with a refreshing Coke or sweet tea?"

"I'll have a Coke, please," Danny's ever present companion said with ease, releasing his hands and looking at the server expectantly. The server then turned to Danny who just stared at her in wonderment. She shifted her feet and shot a look at the violet eyed woman. "He'll have the same," she told the server who took note with a grateful nod.

"And what would you two like?"

For a second Danny thought their waitress had gone crazy asking them what they wanted again but two voices piped up.

"Chocolate milk!"

"Sprite!"

His head whirled around towards the voices and with a sinking feeling in his gut, he realized that a little boy was sitting next to him while a little girl was sitting next to the nameless girl across from him. The server flashed them another smile and went on her way. Danny stared at the kids as though aliens had just been plopped into the booth with him. Where had they come from?

"What's the matter, Daddy?" the little girl asked with bright, concerned eyes that brimmed with tears. His eyes widened and he shot up, jumping away from the booth as though it had burned him, his eyes remaining trained on the children in obvious confusion. They resembled him, especially the boy, there was no denying it. Still, surely he could remember having kids, surely he could grab hold onto some memories that involved them being born, a birthday or two, anything! Danny's mind raced as he tried to navigate through the many broken and strange thoughts not being able to find any he trusted much less any that involved two children. He couldn't even recall having intercourse to lead to having kids. He would remember having kids, that seemed to be the only thought in his mind that made any sense.

"Honey! You're scaring the kids." There were hands on his shoulders now, gently pressing him back into the booth and his seat. "Just calm down and try to focus."

"I-I don't have any kids," he whispered.

"Daddy don't want kids?" the girl asked sadly.

"Daddy wants us! Right, Daddy?" the boy asked.

"Of course he wants you," she gently reassured them before shooting an angry look at Danny. "Tell them you're sorry."

"I'm only fourteen!" he protested. There was no way he had a girl who looked four, much less a boy who appeared to be seven or eight! These thoughts were firmly uncoiling in his mind. It was just too much for him to believe he could just forget any of this.

All three of them laughed at his proclamation.

"Daddy thinks he's a big kid?"

"Daddy, you're not in school anymore!"

"Sweetie, we've been over this before. I know you're still in shock and having trouble with your memories, but you are _thirty-seven._  Try to remember that at least for the kids' sakes. They hardly see you as it is, and I just wanted to have one nice family dinner." Danny could only stare at her. He didn't remember any of this, having kids, getting married, any birthday between fourteen and thirty-seven. Nothing. The server came and took their food orders and Danny was having the same thing as his newly acquired wife since he was incapable of speech for the time being.

"Thirty-seven?" he repeated after the waitress had left. "Thirty-seven, married, and two kids?" It wouldn't sink in. He couldn't believe it.

"Yes, honey, you've been working as a dental assistant for thirteen years now. We live in an apartment and have one small car."

"Dental assistant?" Danny asked.

The little boy snickered. "Daddy likes the copycat game."

"Yes, hon, a dental assistant."

"For thirteen years?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "Yes."

"You mean, in thirteen years I still haven't become a dentist?" It was stupid, he knew, but it was the only thing Danny was able to really grasp. Even the thoughts of denial were becoming less insistent and fading to the wayside so he ceased and zoned into this one thought. He wasn't sure why he was a dental assistant as going to the dentist had never been his favorite thing but after thirteen years surely he could be an actual dentist by now!

"We have this discussion every paycheck. You should just be glad you have a job."

"What does that mean?" he demanded, surprised at how strong his voice sounded. He was surprisingly defensive.

"Well, with your problems, you're not exactly the most stable person," she mumbled as their food was carried to the booth and passed around. Danny remained quiet as they all began to eat. It looked great and he chewed and swallowed yet he tasted nothing.

About half-way through, Danny found his voice again. "I'm not stable? Me? You think I'm unstable?" His voice had risen and annoyance was coloring his thoughts that she thought he wasn't stable. They'd had this conversation before; of course he was stable!

"You're going to scare the kids. Again."

"I gotta pee!"

"It's 'use the bathroom'," she corrected the boy. "It's rude to say that at the table." She looked over to Danny and he slid out the booth to let the boy pass. He sat back down and she stared at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Well, aren't you going to go with him?"

"To the bathroom?" Danny asked confused. "He's a big boy, he's not in diapers." Geeze, now he fighting over how to raise a kid he wasn't even sure he'd had? "He can use it himself."

"It's across the restaurant and there are walls! What if someone takes off with him?"

"You are too paranoid, I'll check on him if he's not back in a few minutes."

"Fine," she conceded unhappily and angrily stuffed some food into her mouth. Even the way she chewed her food came across as angry. Danny ignored her and continued to pick at his own plate wondering why he couldn't taste anything. It  _looked_  so good! He wanted something so badly. His stomach was grumbling at him and wouldn't stop. The food just did not satisfy him. Now, he had this strange, new world to consider.  _Are you sure it's strange and new?_ He shuddered at the thought. He supposed it was possible, but...he gave a slight shake of his head. This was just  _too_ much. He couldn't possibly be married and with kids. He didn't remember proposing, his marriage, welcoming babies into this world, or any birthdays.

"Well?"

Danny looked across the table at his "wife." He took a sip of his drink, noting that was tasteless, too. "What?" he asked.

"It's been a few minutes," she said pointedly.

"Fine, fine," Danny grumbled, rising from the chair. He slowly made his way to the bathroom, thoroughly annoyed. The kid was eight, he could pee by himself! Danny shook the thought from his head. Why was he getting so aggravated about it? These  _weren't_ his kids.  _Are you sure?_ He stopped in his tracks. Had he thought that?  _Was_ he sure? Sighing, he found the bathroom and went in. He was about to call the kid's name but stopped short. He didn't know the boy's name! Or the little girl's name for that matter! He was the father of a totally nameless family.

_Ha!_  he thought, noticing the mirror and going over to it. This would prove he wasn't thirty-seven! He stopped before the mirror and stared into it horrified.  _Holy crap!_  Danny leaned in close, inspecting the reflection that stared back out at him. He didn't look bad, but he certainly looked to be in his late thirties. Panic shot through his veins and his heart skipped a few beats. What if  _she_  had been telling the truth? What if he did have mental problems or something? Wow, he should just be grateful she was willing to put up with some crazy guy like him. And now, he might have lost their kid. Full-fledged panic overtook his thoughts. He didn't know a name to call out in his search and how could he even contemplate returning to the booth without their son? Throwing caution completely to the wind he began to fling open bathroom stalls in his panic. There was something vaguely familiar about yanking open bathroom stall doors but he couldn't place it. He was really coming to hate public restrooms. Out of stalls, he paused to draw in a deep breath. He was completely alone in the bathroom. There wasn't even another customer that needed to use their bodily functions. He'd lost the kid. What would he say to his wife? She was going to kill him. Breaths came in short gasps as he tried to find some kind of solution to this dilemma. This couldn't be happening, no, no, no, no.  _Stay calm, stay calm, no, no, where are you, where are you, crap, crap, shit, I lost him, I lost him, shit,_ the thoughts swirled through his mind repeatedly, a desperate chant of sorts.

He flung open one of the stalls again just in case he might have somehow missed the boy. Stunned by who was in the stall and what was taking place, he did little more than gape for a full minute, unable to conceal his amazement. Tucker was there. And he was eating at a table. It was the oddest thing Danny had ever seen in his life. Wait, why would there be a table in a bathroom stall? Danny glanced back behind him and was taken completely off-guard. There wasn't a trace of the public bathroom. It looked like both he and Tucker were sitting at a long table in a large cafeteria. There was something a little odd about this place, though. There were only men here and they were of all ages, not just high school students.  _Wait, am I even in high school or am I a thirty-seven year old father of two?_  he thought uncertainly. It had seemed real. And, then, he kept trying to push away thoughts of that  _other_  place, where a plane had crashed. There was no way. Tucker was right here, after all.

"Hey, are you listening to me?" Tucker asked him clearly annoyed.

Danny started to shake his head, but quickly nodded instead. "Uh, yeah, sorry, I was distracted."

His friend rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You're always 'distracted.'" Tucker did not look too happy about it. Danny studied his friend for a moment, really taking him in, realizing that whatever he was missing was a probably going to be a lot worse than he could have imagined. Tucker looked to be in his early twenties.  _Am I in my early twenties?_  Danny wondered while still looking his friend over. Even though he looked to be about his early twenties, he sounded so sad and angry and his eyes burned with resentment. His demeanor was angry and unhappy, too. It looked as though Tucker had not smiled in a long while. He looked so grim. Something else struck Danny as odd. They were wearing matching clothes. A drab looking uniform. And so were all the other men in the cafeteria. Now he was nearing hyperventilation.  _ **Why**_ _are me and Tucker in_ _ **prison?**_ he thought, glancing around, suddenly very panicky and really noticing just how intimidating some of those men actually were.

Tucker was regarding his friend strangely now. Danny met his eyes, shocked and terrified. "Tucker," Danny whispered, "why are here?" he whispered.

Tucker dropped his head in his hands. "No, not  _this again,"_  he moaned. He shook his head before looking back at Danny. "Man, why are you always doing this to me? Life is miserable enough as it is."

"I-I don't know what you're talking at."

"Well, just pretend you do," Tucker snapped at him. "I don't want you to be carted off to the psych ward again. You're seriously lucky you got out last time." He sighed and ran his hand across his forehead. "I don't want to lose you, too. Can't you just hold it together?" That sounded like pleading to Danny. They must have had this conversation more than once. Strange, he couldn't remember anything. He didn't recall how they had wound up in here, much less the person they had 'lost' as Tucker had just said. Danny was dreading the next question, but needed to know.

"Who did you lose, Tuck?"

Tucker sat a little straighter and stared at Danny wearily for a few moments before speaking. "Danny," he began in a warning voice, "don't-just don't. Let's not relive all the morbid details again. We're stuck here for life, okay? Let's leave it at that."

"WHAT?" Danny screeched. " _Life?"_

"Would you calm down?" Tucker spat through clenched teeth. A few guys had glanced over their way, but luckily Danny had not been loud enough for any to feel the need to 'help' them.

"What-what did we do?" Danny whispered. "I just-I don't remember anything! Please, Tucker, tell me. I need to know!" Now he was pleading.

Tucker looked dejected and shook his head sadly. "You really don't remember again, huh? I wonder if this is like some freaky Alzheimer's hitting you early on? Or an extreme case of post traumatic stress disorder. Either way, I'll tell you  _again._  But," he leaned forward, "you have to promise me something."

"Sure, anything."

"No matter what I say or how upset you get, you have to promise  _not_  to freak out, okay? They  _will_  cart you off again. We have been in here for four years now. You keep having these memory blanks, it doesn't look good. They might not let you back here."

"Okay, okay, what happened?"

Tucker shook his head again and, if possible, his face turned even more grim. "Don't know why you are in such a hurry to hear. I'm sure not any big hurry to tell it." He took a sip of his drink. For the first time, Danny realized that there was food in front of him. He shoved some in his mouth. It was tasteless. Wait, this felt familiar. He had just been eating tasteless food with someone else, too. There had been something wrong. Tucker cleared his throat and Danny gave him his undivided attention. Tucker spoke in an eerily low tone and Danny found himself straining to hear.

"Okay, so I'm going to try to make this as short as possible because it really isn't any fun to tell. So, remember about four years ago? We were, like, what? Oh, yeah. Eighteen. Me, you, and Sam had started college and it was the middle of our first semester. We were taking a lot of the same classes because it was just the basic stuff, you know. Down at the community college we had all decided to attend so we could still live at home and not pay rent for awhile. Me and you had been looking at apartments for the next year so we could room together. Sam was planning to transfer come the spring semester. A spot had come open at the university she wanted to attend. Ringing any bells?"

Danny shook his head. A pit of growing dread had settled in his stomach. Somehow, he knew Sam would be involved. She was probably the one they had "lost." He forced the thought away from his mind. No, she was fine. He tuned back into Tucker's story.

"So, one day, we were at lunch, just messing around and you had said that we needed to ask Jazz about one of the apartments we were interested in because she was friends with the landlord." Tucker paused and glanced at his friend expectantly. Danny could tell that he was recalling all of this from crystal clear memory. It looked like he didn't want to continue.

"I don't remember..." Danny answered the unasked questions. Tucker sighed and continued on.

"So, we couldn't get in touch with her. We didn't think anything of it. The next day we tried again and couldn't and now you were a little more worried. You called your parents and they hadn't heard from her, either. Then we tried to get in touch with a couple of her friends we knew of and they didn't know, but promised to call more friends for us and gave us some phone numbers. So, no one had heard from her for a couple days. Now your parents were really worried and they filed a missing persons report. After another day and not signs of her, the local news began reporting it, too. We were hoping the media coverage would heighten our chances of finding her.

It didn't, though. We kept looking and searching. We would all pair off, me, you, Sam, your parents, my parents, Sam's parents, and some of Jazz's friends and other members of our families. Anyway, a cop finally found her hidden away in some old, abandoned apartment." Tucker was visibly upset now and fidgeted angrily.

"What? Was she okay?"

Tucker stared at his friend like he had achieved a new level of stupid. " _No,_ Danny. She wasn't okay. She was  _dead._ Very violently put to death."

Danny began to slowly shake his head. "No, no, noooo," he even grinned a little, amazed Tucker would create such an elaborate story for his sake. Did his friend take him for an idiot? "I just saw her. She gave me some medicine."

"When?"

"When what?"

"Did she give you medicine?"

Danny shrugged. "I don't know. Earlier."

Tucker rolled his eyes. "Well, every time we have this conversation, you always say that. No one's been giving you medicine, but the nurse here. Granted, she does have the same color hair Jazz had."

Danny cringed at the past tense. "Has," he corrected.

"Danny, she's been dead for awhile now.  _You're_  the one that saw her body. She isn't coming back. Do you want me to continue on with how we got in here?"

"I saw her body?"

"Yeah, it was a closed casket, but I guess the family got to look before the arrangements and all that. For identification. It was really bad from what you described and the police report was gruesome to read. Some horrific things were done to her. You were  _so_ angry and, well, we all were. But you were even angrier because she was your sister and you had put so much effort into protecting everyone from ghosts, but she had fallen victim to a human. Man, I'd never seen someone so angry.  _I'd_ never been so angry.

So, we never really made it through the stages of grief, you know? We got stuck on the anger step and wouldn't budge. Me, you, and Sam that is. We tracked down the guys who did it. Four dudes from one of the bigger cities nearby, some gang initiation. It was Jazz's bad luck, wrong place at the wrong time."

Danny was wide-eyed now, still unable to believe what he was hearing. Tucker must be losing his mind. He thought some gang had violently murdered his older sister. Tucker was still talking.

"So, it took awhile on our part. Sam refused to transfer, also angry. She was upset because she felt like it wasn't fair. It had been over a couple months and the police just didn't seem to be able to draw any leads. But, all we had to do, was look at some other similar acts done in the past and we made the connection in another city. The police might have," Tucker added with a shrug, "but they couldn't do what you did. Which was slip in, total invisible. You planted a picture and hid away, waiting to hear what someone said when they saw the picture. Well, this was the third gang we'd tried and the guys there, seven, they recognized her. And that was the beginning of their end.

You had a hidden mic on so me and Sam could hear and we barged in." He didn't quite grin at the shock in Danny's eyes, but he did look a bit amused. "Yeah, remember, me and Sam had, uh, acquired some weapons? Not guns, though that would've been less messy." Danny cringed, wishing Tucker would have left that detail out. "So, you totally freaked them out suddenly appearing on the table and when they tried to shoot at you, you would just go ghost, which really had them in a total state of panic, then me and Sam jumped into the fray while they were all confused. You kept watch at our backs and also started attacking. Man, we were pretty ruthless.

Well, as it were, turns out the cops were staking the place out. Go figure. The justice we wanted so badly  _would_  have been served without us, but we were too impatient. Anyway, they came stormin' on in, guns held high and everything, warning everyone to freeze. Well, only one of the gang members that were still standing did while the rest of us kept on clawing at each other's throats. One of the cops warned us they would shoot if they had, too. We didn't care. And then you jumped at the guy who had froze and, of course, right at that moment one of the cops blasted a bullet. It would have hit either you or that guy, but you both went careening out of the way, rolling into a wall. The next person in the bullet's path was Sam. She wasn't so lucky."

Tucker sighed and stabbed angrily at his food. He was clearly agitated at having to recount the whole sordid affair. "So, there was pretty much no hope. Everyone was so shocked, we all  _did_ freeze and the police did their work and had us all in cuffs. Well, me, you, and the three other guys who weren't on the floor in pain. Sam died on the way to the hospital as did one of the guys. Two had died on the floor and the last died two weeks later in ICU. So, me and you were charged with four counts of murder actually two each, since it was determined we were each responsible for the death of two of those guys, go figure.

The other three guys. Well, one got off nearly scot-free. Turns out he was only sixteen and he had just joined. So, he had to do some community service, but he hadn't been involved in any murders. The other two  _had_  been involved with murders, just not Jazz's. Turns out, it  _was_  members of that gang, just not those members. They had recognized the picture because they knew that's how some of their member had come to be members. But, the two that got caught did rat out  _all_  four of those guys, plus three more involved in another woman's murder. They've all been sentenced to jail for life. The four involved with Jazz were put in another prison because, well, we'd clash obviously and they're from another city." Tucker exhaled deeply, glad to have made it through the whole tale. Last time, Danny had wildly accused him of being some sort of demented psycho, making up stories and denying anything had happened. "So, that's why we are in here for life. Not much hope for parole, either."

Danny was speechless. Jazz and Sam were both dead. Gone. Just like that. They-they, he closed his eyes and he suddenly saw images flicker across his mind. He remembered bits and pieces now. Jazz missing for days on end, the phone call from the police, and the awful moment he was told what exactly had happened. He remembered fighting with Sam and Tucker about coming with him to avenge his sister's murder, he remembered hearing them laugh at her picture and make some snide comments, and he remembered blood all over Sam, how her eyes had been unfocused and her cry of pain. He vaguely recalled being cuffed and a judge's gavel pounding a podium. There had been flashes of light and people shoving microphones at him, asking what had driven him do so. How had he felt when he realized it was the wrong gang members? Did he think he was above the law? Did he regret his actions now. He spent a long time wondering where Tucker was. He could remember following a guard to his cell, mesmerized by the clinking sound all those keys made when they hit each other. He recalled how final everything had felt when his slam door had been slammed shut.

"Danny, say something. You're scaring me." Now Tucker sounded so frightened. It occurred to Danny he had just been staring at his friend in wide-eyed horror as the memories slammed back into his mind. He wanted to push them away, wanted to deny there was any truth to them, he wanted to refuse them so badly.

"That-that-I can't believe it. I wish we could have gotten rid of that gang before. I should have realized something would happen."

"What are you talking about?"

"What, now  _I_  have to tell  _you?_ " Danny asked, annoyed. "You just spent a good twenty minutes or so telling me."

"Telling you what?" Tucker asked. Danny frowned. His friend sounded terrified unlike the gruff, resigned tone of just moments ago.

"It's my fault. Especially Sam. If only I hadn't jumped at him, she might not be," he cut himself off, not wanting to talk about it any further. It was really vivid now. Every detail.

"Might not be what?" Tucker asked. "Danny, look at me."

He looked over at Tucker slowly. Wait, Tucker didn't look like he was in his twenties anymore. He looked about fourteen and he didn't look so forlorn or world-weary. He didn't sound like he had lived his life and was just existing from day to day. There was no cafeteria here and there wasn't an assortment of other men in matching, drab uniforms. Had they escaped prison? Wait, that was impossible. Tucker couldn't age backwards, he was pretty sure of that. He glanced down, realizing he was tucked into a bed. They were in some kind of sad-looking, gray room. Tucker was leaning over him, concern etched into his features.

"Danny, come on, please answer me, you're freaking me out," he pleaded with his friend.

"Is this a memory?" Danny asked.

Tucker pursed his lips and shook his head, his concern only deepening. "No, Danny, it's not. Look, I-"

Danny frowned. "Where are Jazz and Sam? They left? It's true then? They're gone?"

"What? No, Sam's at school and Jazz is working."

Danny laughed bitterly. "Is that what they're calling it then? School and working? Is that how you classify different crimes now? I hope Sam's 'school' isn't the type engulfed in flames. I drove her to it. And what do you mean, Jazz is working? What does she need to work for? She didn't commit any crimes."

Confusion was beginning to overshadow Tucker's concern. "Uh, what? I'm serious. Don't worry. They're both fine. Jazz should be checking back in any moment."

" _Checking back in_?" Danny repeated. "Is this some kind of sick joke, Tuck? It's not funny."

Tucker shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Hey, look, Danny. You need to hear this. We found out some stuff. We think we might know what's wrong with you."

Danny shot up out of the bed, surprising both himself and Tucker. "What's  _wrong_  with  _me?_ What's  _wrong_ with  _you_  is the better question. You sure are calm considering everything that's happened." He narrowed his eyes at this new Tucker. Maybe his friend was playing tricks with his mind.

"What?" Tucker asked, sounding more frightened by the moment. "You're  _really_  scaring me now. Look, I need you to look at this." Tucker had a book in his hand and some other papers, but Danny ignored him and began striding towards the door. "Where are you going?" he was dumbfounded.

"Out," Danny replied. He had to see where they were. Were Jazz and Sam still alive? How was he here all of a sudden and what had happened to the prison? Tucker had aged backwards or he was in a memory.  _Or maybe I just had a really bad dream?_ he thought desperately. Everything was so confusing. He was about halfway to the door when his legs started to wobble. He slowed, even more confused, and turned back to shoot a questioning look at Tucker.

"You haven't eaten in a few days," Tucker began slowly. "That medicine makes you drowsy and you've been having some serious problems, Danny. You should get in bed."

"What?" Danny whispered.

"Yeah, you need to lay down," he said, moving over to Danny. He extended a hand and helped his friend up, guiding him back to the bed. "Here, we have some bread and honey here. It's not much, but Jazz wasn't entirely sure. She didn't want your stomach getting upset on top of everything else so we decided to stick with the basics." He grinned apologetically at Danny.

Danny crawled back into the bed, but pushed the plate away when Tucker tried to give it to him. "No,  _no._  I don't want to eat any more food that tastes like nothing."

Tucker glanced down at the plate. "Uh, well, I'm sure I can get you some grape jelly or something. I thought you liked honey?"

Danny shook his head. "No, it's not going to taste like anything just like the other food I ate with you. I'm tired of tasteless food."

" _What_  other food did you eat with me? Danny, you really  _need_  to eat something. I know you're starving." He offered the plate again.

"Why do you want me to eat it so badly?"

"Cause you  _need_  food."

" _No_ ," Danny hit the plate out of Tucker's hands. Tucker stared at his empty hands in total shock. It was a good thing that had been a paper plate.

"What is going on in here?" Jazz asked, closing the door behind her and taking in the mess on the floor. Her eyes landed on Danny and she suddenly became much more alert. "Hey, you're up. We need to tell you something..." she trailed off at the wide-eyed expression on her brother's face.

"Jazz," he whispered. "Are you 'checking in?'"

"Ummm," Jazz began uncertainly, glancing over at a very shaken Tucker. "Yeah. I was just making sure you were okay."

"Why would you be making sure  _I'm_  okay? Are  _you_ okay?"

Jazz frowned at this. "Yeah, Danny, I'm fine. We're more worried about you right now."

Everything in Danny's mind seemed to freeze and his memories of Tucker and the prison fell away, a confusing set replacing them all within the span of half a second. He gasped. "Oh, no, I lost him!"

Jazz and Tucker exchanged a look. "Lost who?" Jazz asked.

"My son! I can't find him! He went to the bathroom and he wasn't there. I can't go back to the dinner table."

_"What?"_ Jazz and Tucker asked in unison.

Danny had thrown the covers back off of him and was making to get up again. Tucker and Jazz both pressed him back down, looking more worried than he could ever remember seeing them. He struggled under their hands. They didn't understand! He needed to get to his son. "I need to find him. She might divorce me and I'm already crazy. I can't even become a dentist."

"You don't have any kids!" Tucker cried out.

"You need to calm down," Jazz tried to tell her brother.

"No,  _NO_ , let me go! I need to go and find him. You need to let me go! Do you want him to die or something? What if he's been kidnapped?"

Jazz sighed. "Danny, no one's been kidnapped. You need to take some medicine, okay?"

"Why? Is this part of my problem?"

"Umm, yes." Jazz replied after a moment's hesitation. Danny stilled and nodded. She went over to the small restroom and took the medicine out of the cabinet. In the meantime, Danny turned his full attention to Tucker.

"Hey, Tucker, can you believe I've been a dental assistant for thirteen years? I can't become a dentist because I'm  _unstable._  Can you believe that?"

"Uh, no, I can't," Tucker answered.

"Why are you so sad, anyway? Have you been an assistant for thirteen years, too?"

Tucker sighed, and rested his chin in his hand. "No, Danny. I haven't been. I'm just really worried is all."

"About me? Do you think I'm unstable, too?"

"No, we're figuring it out. Danny, you're  _not_ ," Tucker stopped short.

"Not what?"

"Crazy."

"You don't really sound like you believe that, Tuck."

"Here we are," Jazz came back to the bed with the medicine and Danny gulped it obediently. He looked back at Tucker through bleary eyes.

"It's okay," he assured his friend. "I don't really believe it, either." It looked as though Tucker was saying something. He looked a bit panicky, Danny noted, but no sound came out of his friend's mouth. His head was so much heavier and Tucker and Jazz both blurred. Moments later, he found himself in a world of white. There was no color and snow flaked around him in every direction. It was strange, it burned him when he touched him, but it was so cold. It felt familiar, but he couldn't recall being here before. He was still so worried about his missing child.

"Still don't know his name," he muttered to himself.

"You don't know whose name?" someone asked.

Danny turned, surprised. He frowned, realizing he could barely move.  _That's odd,_  he thought glancing down at the snow. He was stuck in a pile to his waist. How long had he been standing there? There was a girl before him and he had the vague notion he had seen her before. She looked like a younger version of his wife.

"Well?" she prompted.

"My son," he replied. He needed to get out of the snow.

"You don't know your own son's name?"

"I just don't remember it, I'm sure. I don't remember how I got here. Where are we?"

"The plaza."

"What kind of plaza is this? No one is here? It's so depressing."

"I don't know. It's just  _the plaza."_

Danny gave her a strange look before returning his attention to the snow. He started to bend down so he could begin digging himself up but stopped short. He was so tired and all the energy just seeped out of him. Was there any point in digging himself out? Just a moment ago, it had seemed so urgent, but why? His thoughts all linked together and burst like balloons popping, just leaving tiny pieces scattered throughout his mind, like a puzzle that needed to be put together. Every time he tried to piece together the thoughts they made even less sense and it was easier and less stressful to just give up and let them sit askew.

"Are you going to go look for him?"

"Who?"

"Your son?"

Danny stared at her for a moment. "I don't have any kids. I'm only fourteen."

She shrugged. "You're the one who said it, not me."

"Are you here to help me?"

"I don't know."

"Wanna help dig me out?"

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"Against the rules."

Danny frowned at this. She didn't seem very concerned that someone was half buried in a pile of freezing yet burning snow. For the life of him, he could not remember who she was. She must have been a friend of his. "What rules?" he demanded.

" _The plaza's_ rules," she informed him as if she'd had it stamped on her forehead and he must be blind.

He sighed, realizing a hopeless cause when he saw one. "Why is the snow so cold but it burns my skin? Do you know?"

"No."

"What do you know?"

"That we're in your plaza."

"Now it's  _my_  plaza and not  _the plaza?"_

"It's always been your plaza."

"Then I make up the rules and I say you can help me get out."

She shook her head and grinned and Danny shuddered. She looked a bit like a maniac. She was definitely not a friend. "No, it doesn't work that way. It's  _your_  plaza, but you don't make up the rules of  _the_ plaza. Every person has to follow the rules of  _the plaza._  This one just happens to be yours, but it still has to bend to the rules."

"You're not making any sense."

"Oh, and I suppose you are?"

"What? Yeah."

"Not to me, you're not."

"Uh," Danny was ready to protest but the world began flaking away and she grinned at him.

"You should have built a less vulnerable plaza," she said as she vanished to be replaced by a mirror. Danny stared into the mirror confused. He  _wasn't_ fourteen. He looked like he was in his late thirties. Something was nagging at the back of his mind. He was supposed to be looking for someone, but who? He glanced around and figured he must have been in a public restroom due to the stalls and urinals.

A stall slammed open and Tucker was hauled out by a blurry looking shape. There was a large knife being held to his throat and he looked terrified. Adrenaline pumped through Danny. He had the strangest sense of déjà vu. What was going on? Why would anyone want to actually kill Tucker? The blurry form came into sharp focus and his blood froze over. Sam. He felt ill and nothing could snap him out of it. He couldn't just choose between his two best friends and that looked to be the decision they were forcing on him. He couldn't make his mouth work and he simply stared in shock, waiting for the inevitable to happen. When it finally happened, he found he could do nothing but scream and scream, the pain and shock tearing through his body and mind like a searing force.


	9. Chapter 9

Tucker glared at the floor murderously. He had spent quite some time cleaning up the bread and scrubbing the honey off the rickety boards. He had been so angry, he had scrubbed furiously and now it practically sparkled. The conversation he'd had with Danny kept replaying in his mind as if it were some clip from a terrifying horror movie that wouldn't stop haunting him. His friend had sank from being in "dangerously serious trouble" to "ridiculously dangerously serious trouble." Tucker was still trying to come to terms with it all. It had felt like he had spoken to two completely different versions of his friend yet it felt as though he'd never actually spoken to  _Danny,_ just a couple warped versions of him. It had really shaken him up. He didn't have the heart to turn his glare on Danny, so he remained staring at the floor as though he could actually burn a hole through it.

He wanted Sam to come and relieve him from his "shift" as Jazz had taken to calling them. He felt terrible that he no longer wanted to sit with his friend. It was an odd feeling. He  _did_  want to stay with Danny, but at the same time, he was terrified at what might happen the next time Danny woke up. Tucker had never been fond of feeling helpless, but now the feeling was becoming overpowering and he wanted to  _get away_  from it. A useful knowledge of different technical gizmos was not going to fix this and cracking some jokes certainly wasn't going to get them anywhere. It was horrible because he couldn't discuss any possible solutions with Danny since Danny  _was_  the problem. It was beginning to feel as if his friend was practically dead even though he was  _right there._ He shuddered. Is this how people felt when their loved ones fell into comas and never woke up, or they did but were never the same again?  _What if Danny is stuck like this forever?_  He shook his head, pushing the thought away from his mind. He couldn't believe that, he couldn't accept it, he  _wouldn't_  accept it. But still, he couldn't come up with any kind of logical explanation for the hysterical outburst Danny had earlier. He settled into his chair, mulling over the recent event.

Sam pushed some food around on her plate. She was surprised she had actually made it halfway through the school day having way less trouble than Tucker had. She speculated that maybe it was the intimidating glares she kept shooting classmates that she thought  _might_  be thinking of approaching her. She was supposed to go to the motel after school and stay with Danny for most of the evening. Jazz had made it very clear that she didn't want either Sam or Tucker sneaking out at night. The neighborhood was already dangerous enough and Jazz had expressed concerns for their continuing education. Sam was beginning to worry about Jazz. The older girl had yet to mention going back to school herself and it was no secret that Jazz was at the age where one could legally drop out of school. She had so much ambition, though. Surely, she wouldn't go that route.

"Hey, where's your boyfriend?"

Sam rolled her eyes. Of course, she had figured it would only be a matter of time before Dash found her and tried to crack some jokes about Danny. She steeled herself and replied in a very bored voice, "I don't have a boyfriend, but if you're referring to Danny, he's in Mexico building houses. When I see him again, I'll be sure to let him know you missed having him around school. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear it."

Dash stared at her in confusion for a couple seconds before shaking his head in disgust. "Whatever, freak." He stalked off, not bothering her for the rest of the day. She didn't run into any more problems for the remainder of the school day.

Sam arrived at the motel, having told her parents she was at a friend's house. She slowly made her way to the motel room, clutching her backpack. Her school books had been abandoned in her locker and books about ghosts, curses, exorcists, and family genalogies had replaced them. She lugged them around with her, trying to get any more information she possibly could from them. She still had yet to find any weird quirks in her family tree. Sure, all of her relatives  _had_  weird quirks, but there were no dramatic deaths, no grudge-holding she could find, and no talk of curses anywhere. Tucker hadn't had any luck and she was sure Jazz hadn't, either.

Tucker had never been so relieved to hear a door open in his life. "Sam," he greeted her, hopping up from his chair. She gave him an odd look, his uneasy excitement not lost on her. He bit his lip. "Uh, how was school?"

"Well, I had a better day than you did," she replied honestly. "But it looks like you had an even worse day today than you did yesterday. Having a bad week, Tuck?"

Tucker let out a sarcastic laugh. "That's putting it lightly and you know it." He looked down at the floor again and sighed before looking back at Sam. "Listen, he woke up earlier."

"And...?"

"It was bad, Sam,  _real_  bad."

"What do you mean?" she asked, glancing over at Danny concerned. He was sleeping on the bed, muttering every now and then, but that had gone from weird to normal within the past few days. He was nearly always muttering in his sleep.

"It was like he wasn't himself. At first, he was talking like something had happened to you and Jazz and then he was acting as if Jazz was one of the walking dead when he did see her. And," he leaned forward, "then he got this freaky blank look and just snapped. He started yelling at us about having to go and find his  _kid_  and kept going on about how he'd been a dental assistant for thirteen years and his wife might divorce him because he was crazy."

_"What?"_  Sam asked in absolute total shock. Had the situation been less serious, she might have thought Tucker was trying to mess with her. This situation was  _too_ serious to joke around about and the shaken look Tucker wore and the way his voice trembled as if he were on the verge of a meltdown was enough for her to know he wasn't kidding around.

"I know," he whispered. "It's crazy. Danny thinks he's been practicing dentistry since he was  _one years old."_

"That's not the point, Tucker," Sam snapped.

"But it's true! Even a crazy person has to realize they can't have a job like that for thirteen years if they're only fourteen! It's simple logic!"

"He's  _not_  crazy!" Tucker didn't respond and Sam's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "He's  _not_  crazy," she repeated.

"You sure could have fooled me earlier," he told her quietly. Sam resisted the urge to slap him and he went on, "It's not that I  _don't_  want to believe he hasn't lost his mind, but we've all been trying to find a link to this curse and none of us have found one! I've been up and down my family tree and I know you and Jazz have, too. What if losing his mind is just a natural part of reality since he's been linked to the the ghost world for some time now?"

"There's no way for us to know that. Besides, we only found out about the curse yesterday. There's still something we could have overlooked."

"I know  _I_ was up all night researching and I know you were. I know Jazz has been. There's nothing we could have overlooked. None of our relatives have cursed anyone."

"Well, yeah, but we still could have missed something. He's not crazy, Tucker!" Neither were aware of the increasing volume in their voices.

"He was sure acting like someone with mental problems earlier."

"Tucker-!"

_"Hey!"_ Jazz leaned on the door frame, arms crossed. A glass of Windex was in one hand, while a cleaning towel was in the other. "You two want to keep it down? I can hear you from a couple rooms down. Yelling about curses and your relatives is going to sound  _odd_  to people." Sam and Tucker both turned towards her, each wary. Jazz didn't look so hot herself, irritated with the two for fighting and not having slept in about three days wasn't putting her in the best of moods.

"Tucker thinks Danny is a lost cause," Sam said, glaring at her friend.

"I didn't say  _that_!" Tucker exclaimed furiously. "I just-"

_"Enough!"_ Jazz silenced them. "I never said it was the curse for sure. There is a possibility. There is  _also_  the possibility that it  _could_  be he has lost his mind due to the paranormal link. But since he is seeing someone consistently, we want to wear out this curse theory until we're positive that it's not the case." She studied each of them for a moment. "We all haven't been sleeping, so we're all on edge. You two need to get some sleep tonight." Sam was about to protest that Jazz should speak for herself, but the other girl quickly continued on before anyone could interrupt, "You each say you've done all the research you can, but have either of you worked up the nerve to call and  _ask_  your relatives if they've ever cursed anyone or known someone who has?"

"I'm not going to ask them that!" Tucker protested. He had really meant to, but when he had gone to call a couple relatives, he found he couldn't come up with a good enough excuse to ask such a crazy question. "Mom might think I'm dabbling in questionable stuff or something. She'll be watching me like a hawk!"

Sam wanted to make some snide comment, but couldn't. Jazz turned to her expectantly and she answered, "No, I can't either. I was, but Mom already thinks I'm weird enough being goth and all. She's already so overbearing, if she thought I was thinking about cursing people, she'd probably have me at a shrink every day of the week."

"There's nothing wrong with therapy," Jazz cut in defensively.

"I know, but still!" Sam glared at her. "So, have  _you_ asked your relatives?"

Jazz shocked them both with an affirmative nod of the head. "I did, actually." She shuddered, recalling the numerous odd conversations she'd had. Each relative had responded with a hesitant "no" followed by "did your parents put you up to this?" For some reason, they hadn't freaked out the way she thought they would when she'd asked if they'd ever cursed someone. A couple had laughed and asked if she'd had enough of her parents finally and one had even offered to let her and Danny stay with them, saying they always thought the two deserved better. Jazz frowned at the two before her. "It's a lot less intimidating after the first call or two. Or just start with your parents, I did and they didn't freak out." She had called them last night; they had been happy to hear from her and complained that Danny was spending too much time over at Tucker's.

"That's because they're  _your_ parents," Sam pointed out. "Even you think they're weird and need therapy."

"Okay, good point. But, honestly, I think you two are making too big a deal out of it."

Tucker and Sam both glanced over at Danny doubtfully. Tucker shouldered his bookbag and turned to Sam apologetically. "Sorry, I got angry earlier. I'm just scared."

Sam nodded. "I understand." There was still friction between the two but they both knew it would be gone tomorrow.

Tucker left the girls, deep in thought. He felt bad he'd gone off on Sam, but he really  _was_ scared. It was like the curse theory was placing hope in them and he was so scared it might not work out. Or what if they wasted time on this one theory and discovered another one later and it was too late to do anything about it? Or what if they went through all the trouble of researching it and making the family think they were freaks and it simply didn't pan out? So many "what ifs" and nothing solid at all, it was driving him crazy. The sound of Danny's voice freaking out over his missing child was not helping matters at all. It was like he couldn't get that panicky outburst out of his thoughts. He inhaled and exhaled deeply once he reached the door to his house. The bus ride had been quick. He wanted to ask his mom something, but this question would require guts.

Tucker found his mother sitting on the sofa in the living room. He had decided that he might as well follow Jazz's advice and simply ask his parents flat-out. "Hey, hon," she greeted him.

_Might as well get this over with,_ he thought, mustering all the courage he could,  _might as well spit it out._  "Hey, Mom, have you or Dad ever cursed someone?"

Mrs. Foley gave her son an odd look before shrugging and replying, "Sure, it happens every now and then. We don't mean to, though, they just sorta slip out."

Tucker stared at his Mom in shock not fully comprehending what she'd just told him. "Wh-what?" he whispered. Surely, he must've misheard. His mother must have misspoken. This couldn't be happening.  _His_  parents were the cause of all of this? And  _so flippant_ about it, too!

Mrs. Foley had stood up, giving her son another strange look. "Well, sure, everyone does. I mean, we try not to. It's not a very good example and I certainly don't want you to."

"I'm not going to  _curse_  anyone! I can't believe you and Dad just let curses  _slip_  out accidentally! Are you crazy?!"

"Why are you getting so upset? It's not that big of a deal!"

Tucker was gaping at his mother now. "Y-yeah, it is! That's like dark magic or something, that's a pretty big deal!"

His mother's mouth dropped open and disbelief colored her features. "Dark magic," she whispered.

"Well, yeah! That's what it is!"

"No, no, I didn't know you meant literal curses. I thought you meant curse words. I've never put a curse on anyone, Tuck. You know none of that is real, right? You can't actually put a curse on someone."

Tucker sighed with relief. He stared at his mother for a moment before giggling. What a misunderstanding! "Curse words. You thought I was asking if you and Dad ever  _cussed?_  Wow, Mom, you really had me going!" He laughed some more and she smiled but couldn't hide her concern.

"Well, it never occurred to me you thought me or your father would go around and just  _curse_  people, which I don't believe is even possible."

His relief was quickly fading and worry was pervading his mind. If his parents weren't cursing anyone and didn't know of any relatives who did and if Sam wound up with the same results as him then that would mean that they had no idea what was wrong with Danny. And that could mean... It took him even more courage to ask this question. Fear laced his voice as he forced the question from his mouth. "Mom, what happens to-to...crazy people?"

Mrs. Foley frowned and pursed her lips, trying to follow her son's line of thinking. First cursing and now questions about crazy people. "Honey, what exactly do you mean by 'crazy?'"

"You know...crazy."

"Well, there's more than one type of crazy. Unless you just mean a person who  _acts_  crazy, but if you're talking about a person with a mental illness then they would be treated for it."

"What if they couldn't be treated for it? What if there was no way to fix them and they were just crazy?"

"That's why we have institutions."

"Oh," Tucker bit his lips. There was no way they could allow Danny to be  _committed._

Mrs. Foley approached her son slowly and wrapped him into a hug. Tucker leaned into her, surprised at how much comfort he found in the embrace. He really was having more trouble with this than he realized. He still found himself having trouble believing his best friend was holed up in some rundown motel room losing his grip on reality.

"Tucker?" Mrs. Foley asked, squeezing a bit tighter. "Does this have anything to do with Danny?"

Tucker's eyes widened and he resisted the urge to  _jump_  away from his mother. Was she psychic? He slowly pulled away and studied his mother for a moment. She didn't look too sure. "Why do you think it has something to do with Danny?"

"Your father and I ran into the Fentons earlier today at the store and you know what? It's the funniest story, I've been waiting for you to get home to tell you. Apparently, the other night when you spent the night at Danny's,  _he_  actually spent the night  _here,_ and the Fentons haven't seen their son in three days now. Even funnier, I don't recall having Danny over for the night this week and the Fentons don't seem to remember you spending the night. So, you've lied about where you were at the other day and you got a black eye yesterday at school. What exactly is going on?"

Gears in Tucker's mind were whirling. He hadn't realized his mother could figure things out so quickly. What were the chances of her running into the Fentons on an outing to the store, after all?! "Uh, well, Mom," he stalled before fully formulating a good excuse,"I, uh, I wasn't at Danny's. I said that because I know you like Danny and see, I wanted to stay at Cameron's and I know you don't like him or want me staying there, so I'm sorry. I had no idea Danny was going to use me as a cover that same night."

Mrs. Foley narrowed her eyes at him, only half believing his excuse. Tucker had been friends with a troublesome boy named Cameron and she had taken great measures to push Tucker away from the "bad influence" as she had taken to labeling him. Danny came from an eccentric family, but he wasn't all that bad and definitely not a bad influence like that other boy. She was not happy to hear about this.

Tucker waited nervously for his mother to respond. He knew it was a long shot, but she had so disliked the other boy and it was the first idea that had popped into his head.

"And Danny just happened to use you as cover the same night? Where'd he spend the night at?"

"I don't know, Mom. Honest, I don't know. I know he started dating a girl..." Tucker kicked himself mentally. Great, now he was making Danny look like a bad influence.

"Fine, Tucker. But  _do_  you know where Danny is? Jack and- I mean, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton were pretty concerned."

"No, Mom, sorry." It was a good thing Jazz had called them the day before and not today.

"All right. If you do hear from him, let me know, okay?"

"Yes," Tucker started towards his room, praying their conversation was over with. His mom could be so aggravating sometimes. Other times, she could be pretty cool. Right now, she seemed to hanging somewhere in between the two. Tucker could just imagine if he told her that Danny had become a half ghost because of some of the stuff his parents had invented. His mom would never let him go to Danny's house again or hang out with him for that matter. What if  _he_  became a half ghost, she would think. Inspiration struck him and he turned back to his mom.

"Hey, Mom?"

"Yes?"

"I'm glad you aren't like Danny's parents. They can be cool sometimes, but they are so weird, too. I'm glad there's no one like that in our family."

"Every family has a loon or two, Tucker."

"We don't." It was true. Tucker honestly couldn't remember ever meeting a member of the family he'd considered to be a "loon."

"We never visit them and we plan to keep it that way."

"Who?"

"My distant cousin. She's a lot older than me and pretty...eccentric. Very strange."

Tucker frowned. "Really? Can I talk to her sometime?"

" _Why_  would you want to do that?"

Tucker had thought about this before. "A school project. We're supposed to be compiling reports on different members of the family and how they affect each other. I thought I had finished, but she sounds like she might be the most interesting family member."

"Gee, thanks, sweetie."

Tucker held up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm not stopping you from changing that. Do something that really piques my interest like doing awesome flips on a skateboard or creating a time travel machine." Please, make time travel a reality.

"I like my body in one piece and, sure, you can call her. Her name is Etta. Short for Henrietta. But she likes 'Etta' more. Her number's in the phone book under Etta."

Tucker nodded and tore off after the phone book, excitement bubbling up in him. The curse might still be the cause of Danny's problems and it could be some distant relative of his. He was so relieved that it wasn't his Mom or Dad, that he didn't  _care_  if he was the cause of the curse or not. He just wanted to be rid of the darned thing.

He was surprised he'd never heard of this "Etta" person. No one had even mentioned her, not that he could recall. Or maybe they had. If he were to be honest with himself, Tucker didn't pay too much attention to the going-ons with the family. He dialed the number and patiently waited for someone to pick up the phone.

"Hi, how can I help you?"

Tucker gave the phone an odd look. It sounded like he'd called a business. Gathering his nerve, he asked, "Is Etta there? This is Tucker Foley, a cousin. I wanted to ask a question."

"Well, please ask, Tucker Foley. I will relay the message to my classmate."

Tucker didn't respond for a moment, trying to figure out if he'd heard right or if he was simply finally losing  _his_  mind. Wasn't Etta much older than his own mother? "Uh, I was just wondering if she's ever cursed anyone? Like the dark magic?"

"Magik or magic?"

"Uhh, I don't know?"

"Well, as witches we do practice the Art of Cursage from time to time."

Tucker gaped at the phone in disbelief. Was it really this easy? It was almost funny. The person on the other end was asking if he was still there and he realized that he had yet to respond. "Uh, thanks. Hey, can I come over tomorrow with a friend? We have a couple questions that I was hoping Etta could answer?"

"Yes, I'm sure Etta won't mind. The season is over with and it is summer, so we have no classes to attend. I don't think the teachers will be upset if we don't show up for class. I will tell Etta she has a treasured member of the family coming by to visit her. Wait, let me write this down and stick it on the fridge, so she'll see it."

Tucker frowned and wondered if it was going to become a common occurrence for him to speak to people with only half their mind in place. He decided against telling her that it wasn't summer. He asked for directions and she was quick to give him some, though he could not understand them. In the end, he asked for her address and figured he would just type it into mapquest.

"I look forward to seeing you and your mysterious friend, Tucker Foley." Tucker didn't move for a good two minutes, dreading the next day when he met Etta and her freaky friend.

Sam flipped the page of yet another book, looking for any information they might have missed. Every now and then she would think back on her little spat with Tucker. She knew alot of it had to do with the fact they simply hadn't been getting a lot of sleep and neither was eating a particularly healthy diet, if anything at all. Jazz was the worst of the three, but she and Tucker weren't exactly getting a peaceful night's sleep when they went home.

Tucker was giving up hope, she could tell in his eyes. She had to find something that would encourage him not to do that, encourage  _her_  not to do that. It had been instinct to defend Danny, but she had some of her own doubts about the curse theory as well. But she just couldn't bring herself to believe that Danny had lost his mind so quickly. It had only been four days ago that he was perfectly fine. People just didn't go crazy overnight like that...did they? No, Danny simply couldn't be. There had to be some paranormal activity involved. There  _had_ to be.

Danny's eyes flickered opened, unfocused and looking torn between angry, terrified, and shocked. Sam leaned towards him, "Danny?" He slowly turned his head and any confusion or terror melted away, only anger remaining prominent. He sat up, his eyes locked with her.

"Why did you kill Tucker?" he asked angrily. Sam started, positive she must have heard wrong. His eyes burned into hers and he demanded an answer. "Well? Answer me." He was not kind with his words.

"What?" she whispered. "Tucker's fine, Danny."

"You  _would_  say that," he accused her, jumping up from the bed. Sam shifted uncomfortably, wishing Jazz would come to check in. Danny looked wild. If he had been anything like this with Tucker, she could see why their friend was beginning to doubt Danny's actual sanity. Deciding she would be best off if she defended herself, she jumped up off the chair.

"What are you talking about?! Of course I would say that because Tucker  _is_ fine! He just left."

"Lies. I saw you slit his throat,  _why_  did you do that, Samantha?" Danny's breath was ragged and in his anger, he had transformed. His eyes burned green with righteous anger as he refused to let Sam turn away from him. He needed answers and the sooner, the better. The image of Tucker falling forward was still too fresh in his mind. He could barely think.

Sam was growing more frightened by the moment.  _Samantha?_ Danny was serious and it looked like he wanted answers and badly. She bit her lip and furrowed her brow in thought, trying to think of something to say that could pacify her friend. She didn't want to admit it, but she was terrifed. Scared for herself and scared for Danny. Finally, she thought of something. "Hey, we can call him," she offered. "Then you'll see-" she didn't get to finish her suggestion.

"Don't screw with me!" Danny cried, lunging forward. Sam gasped, but managed to throw herself out of the way and Danny collided into the wall. Sam was bright-eyed with fear and shock and scurried over the bed, stopping before the balcony. Great, she'd trapped herself. Danny was wild eyed with grief and anger. He punched the wall before turning back to Sam. Somewhere, in her panicky haze of a mind, she wondered if Danny even realized he had gone ghost. He wasn't phasing through anything and had acted as though he was upset the wall had stopped him.

"Look, Danny, I'm serious. Tucker is  _fine._  I haven't-I haven't," she couldn't bring herself to even  _say_  it. She felt her own anger start to bubble up. How could Danny even  _think_  she could do something like that? And to Tucker, of all people! Even if he was having trouble, surely he knew her better than that! Was his mind really so weak to so blindly believe some false images in it? Was he capable of hurting her over some past that never happened yet he chose to believe despite obvious flaws? She would  _never_  kill anyone, not like that!

"You're lying! You-you," Danny couldn't even get out what he wanted to say. He was so torn. He wanted so badly to believe her, but he had just seen her perform the horrible deed. He wanted so badly for her to come up with some logical explanation, but he couldn't rid himself of the sight. Sam was backing away looking terrified. Danny was beginning to doubt himself- why did she look so scared? It must have been because she knew what she had done was wrong, but she kept insisting Tucker was okay. What was going on?

Sam glanced behind her, taking another step. Truth be told, she would rather die or be injured by jumping off a balcony than be accidentally hurt or worse by Danny because he couldn't get a good, solid grip on reality. She knew that if he ever did come back to himself, it would tear him apart if he'd attacked her. Of course, she supposed, it would still tear him apart knowing he was the reason she'd jumped from a balcony.

"Danny, what are you doing?"

Sam had never been so relieved to hear Jazz's voice in her life. She shot Jazz a grateful, yet scared out of her mind look. Danny glanced between the two confused. "Jazz?" he asked in a small voice. "What's going on? Why is she here? She murdered Tucker."

Jazz blinked, trying to process this. "Uh, Danny, she was just leaving," she said slowly, shooting Sam a significant look. The other girl looked ready to protest, but figured it'd be best to follow Jazz's lead and nodded. She walked out, feeling Danny's hate filled glare burn into her back. She settled for waiting in the hall. Jazz would probably find a way to get more medicine down Danny's throat and Sam found herself extremely grateful for that medicine. Still, she was fuming. Danny really thought she had  _murdered_  Tucker.

Jazz was busy trying to coax Danny back to the bed. He needed to calm down and unghost himself as soon as possible, lest prying eyes notice a glowing boy. All she needed was for a co-worker to walk in or something else unwelcome and untimely to happen. This was even worse than when he'd woken up with Tucker. When Jazz had walked in, she had feared her brother was going to physically assault Sam. She could only imagine how Sam must have felt.

"Jazz?" Danny asked timidly, staring at the door where Sam had just left as though she might pop back in any moment. "Why are you trying to protect her? She  _killed_  Tucker!" Danny's hysterical rage wasn't subsiding. Jazz sighed and walked over to Danny, gently grabbing his shoulders and guided him back to the bed. Danny frowned at this, but did sit down. Hadn't someone else been trying to calm him down and get him to sit back down? Someone he had been eating a dinner with. But it hadn't been Jazz. He could almost recall who it was, but it left him as soon as it came. Why was Jazz taking up for Sam whom he'd just seen send Tucker to his grave? Why would Sam even do that in the first place? Why were they here and not at home? Where were their parents?  _I must be losing my mind,_ he thought dimly, not fully realizing how correct he was.

"Danny, uh, you've been having problems," Jazz explained lamely. She had this conversation at least three of four times a day the past couple days. She wondered if she would wind up spending the rest of her life explaining her brother's problems to him over and over again. It was pitiful and she felt as though it was dehumanizing to herself and to her brother.

"What kind of problems?" Danny asked curiously. This was news to him. Maybe this was why they were in some strange place. He wondered where the door that Sam had left through led. Where was Sam? Was this a tiny house? Was she on the street now? Or was this some other place like an apartment or hotel?

"Well," Jazz was being careful with her words again. She was so exhausted, she found it hard to think properly. "With your memories."

Danny let this sink in and looked utterly horrified. "Don't tell me that  _I_  killed Tucker!"

Jazz was quick to shake her head. "Of course not!"

"Well-well, Tucker couldn't have killed Sam because we just saw her!" he protested.

"Danny, no one's killed Tucker!"

"But you just said my memories are messed up and that's definitely a memory!"

"No, no, earlier at the theater you thought you saw some strange girl kill Tucker, it was some sort of hallucination. You must have seen it again but mixed it up and saw Sam instead of that girl."

Danny stared at his sister for a couple seconds in disbelief. "Are you serious?" he whispered. Finally, she was breaking through. Danny was quick to snuff out her hopes. "You actually expect me to believe that? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds, Jazz?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but-"

"It  _is_  ridiculous," he cut in. "I don't understand why you're taking sides with Sam."

"I'm not taking sides, Danny! You really  _are_  having serious problems! You need to take some medicine."

Danny glared at her. " _No_. I'm not sick. You and Sam need to take some medicine."

Jazz hung her head and heaved another sigh. "Look, if you just give me a couple minutes, I  _can_  call Tucker. He actually just left a little while ago." Jazz wasn't sure if he'd left an hour ago or three, but it didn't matter. There no longer seemed to be an end to her days anymore.

"Oh,  _sure._  That's what Sam said."

"I can get him to come over."

"What? Is this some kind of joke?" he narrowed his eyes. Had Jazz and Sam planned out Tucker's demise together? Why would either of them want that?  _Why?_

"Just give me a couple minutes, okay?" she asked tiredly, pulling out her phone. Danny studied his sister as she dialed a number and waited for a response. She looked so...worn out. There were dark circles under her eyes and now that he thought about it, she sounded so defeated and  _resigned_. What had happened? Everything was falling apart. Was this because he had failed to save Tucker? Jazz was talking on the phone now. She was asking the other person, whom she'd called "Tucker" to come back over for a little bit. She hung up and plopped into a chair near the bed. "Well, he's on his way. Just give him a little while. He has to take a cab to get here. Probably take about fifteen or twenty minutes." Neither said anything else while waiting.

Danny decided against asking why on earth Tucker would need a cab to get where they were at.  _Where_  were they? This had to be part of their plan. Were they planning to kill him next?!

Tucker slowly made his way up the stairs towards the hall with the ever dreaded room. It was just bad news all around today. He was thankful he'd picked up the phone when Jazz had called or she would have been facing a full-on interrogation from his parents. He was sure he would've been in for it, too. He made a mental note to inform Jazz that her parents had become suspicious as well as his and he was sure Sam's already were.

He was at odds with himself; on one hand, he was thrilled he might have a lead on the curse theory, on the other, he was horrified he could somehow be the cause of this, indirectly or not. Earlier, he hadn't thought he cared, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized he  _did_  care. It was so confusing and terrifying. Was there someone really that heartless and cruel related to him? Did he have that much of a mean streak running through his veins?

He pushed the thoughts away and tried to focus on mentally preparing himself for the scary state he was sure to find Danny in. Jazz had said he wouldn't take his medicines. Danny thought Tucker had been killed  _again._  Tucker shuddered. It was worrisome how Danny kept seeing  _him_  murdered. He sure hoped this wasn't some kind of freaky warning about his impending doom. Jazz and Sam had been unable to convince Danny that he was alive and healthy. To say Tucker was disturbed and dreading this meeting would be a gross understatement.

He rounded the corner to the hall and spotted Sam sitting forlornly beside the door to the room. She had her knees drawn to her chest and was busy glaring angrily at the opposing wall.

Tucker stopped in front of her. "That bad, huh?"

"He thinks  _I_  killed you," she explained miserably. "He thinks I'm some murderer and he acted like it had just happened. He was ready to actually fight with me. Physically."

_"What?"_  Tucker asked incredulously. Jazz had failed to inform him of that detail.

Sam stood up suddenly. "I think maybe you're right. Maybe he  _has_ just lost it. How could he even  _begin_  to think that if he were sane? Maybe all the paranormal activity has damaged his mind."

It was ironic. A few hours ago, he would have completely agreed with her, no questions asked. Hard to believe just a while ago, they had fought over this. He had planned to call her later that evening after she got home, but it was probably better to deliver this information in person. "Well, I know I  _said_  that, but I think I have a lead on the whole curse thing." He offered her a small, encouraging grin. Maybe Danny really  _wasn't_ crazy, after all.

"What?" Sam demanded in disbelief, mouth agape. She couldn't believe her ears. Had Tucker really just said what she thought?

"It turns out I have some distant cousin who practices the 'Art of Cursage.' I'm supposed to meet her tomorrow. Was going to call and see if you wanted to come, but since I'm here...you wanna come?"

"Uh, yeah," Sam mumbled through her shock. She jerked her thumb towards the door. "Less talk, more action. Jazz needs you in there."

Tucker nodded and hesitantly entered the room. Yet another conversation he was not looking forward to. Danny was sitting on the edge of his bed- when had Tucker started considering it  _Danny's_  bed? His arms were crossed and he was glaring at his sister. Jazz sat in a chair, looking tired and miserable. It seemed misery was a common expression nowadays. Spotting him, she made a sad attempt at a welcoming smile. "Hey, Tuck," she greeted softly, waving him over.

Danny gasped and jerked his head in Tucker's direction. He narrowed his eyes. "Tucker?" he asked guardedly.

Tucker nodded, coming to a stop before his confused friend. "Yeah, Danny, it's me."

"You're not a clone?" Danny demanded, frown deepening. He glanced suspiciously at Jazz. It hurt her, Tucker could tell, but she didn't say anything, letting him have full control. Tucker shook his head.

"I'm not a clone, Danny," he assured him. He didn't look convinced.

"Holographic projection?"

"What? No."

"A person hired to look like Tucker?"

"Uh, no."

"A robot?"

_"Danny!"_ Tucker gripped his friend's shoulders. "No, I'm- I'm  _me._  I'm  _Tucker._ I'm not some clone, projection, actor, robot, or alien because I  _know_  that's what you're going to ask me next. It's me."

"Is it really?" Danny whispered, eyes filling with tears. "I don't know what to believe," he lamented, his voice cracking.

"Oh, Danny," Tucker mumbled with a sigh, drawing his friend into a hug. "Please, believe me, it's the truth." Danny allowed himself to be enveloped in the hug, but didn't hug back and didn't respond. Tucker pulled away and pursed his lips. " _Do_  you believe me?"

"I don't know," was the miserable reply.

"Will you at least take some medicine? You really  _do_ need it."

Danny was silent for a nearly a whole minute before he finally slowly nodded. Jazz was careful not to be too quick about getting it together lest her brother become even more suspicious of her motives. She handed it over to Tucker since Danny was still shooting her wary glances and had yet to say anything else to her. Tucker gave him the medicine and Danny was soon staring at them through half-lidded eyes. "You know, if what you're saying is true, then I'm sorry. I must be causing a lot of trouble."

"No, no, you're not!" Tucker and Jazz were both quick to deny this and try to reassure him despite the fact that they both knew this was causing a lot of trouble, but it wasn't as if Danny could help it. However, their reassurances fell on deaf ears as Danny was already gone to the world. Much to Jazz's relief, her brother was no longer in his ghost form. They were becoming too reliant on that medicine, she knew, but it was so much easier to deal with him when he was conked out. Tucker looked back at Jazz, eyes wide with worry.

"That was really scary," he whispered. "Even scarier than before. It was like, he  _really_  didn't understand that  _this_  was reality. He- he- I think we're losing him." He couldn't believe how much this had progressed in just a few hours. Earlier, Danny had sounded like he had been having hallucinations, but was still able to piece enough together to get things somewhat straight. Now, it was as if he had just decided to no longer piece things together and just choose something to believe and stick with it. If he chose the wrong thing to believe... Tucker shuddered.

"I know," Jazz muttered looking down at her hands. "I don't know what to do."

Tucker decided now would be the best time to tell Jazz about her parents as well as his possible lead on the curse theory. She listened intently, concerned and worried about what her parents had learned from the Foleys. She would have to call them tomorrow, come up with some other explanation. She listened with much interest as Tucker relayed his conversation with his distant cousin's friend.

"So, you're going tomorrow then? Her friend sounded...off." None of them felt comfortable throwing the word crazy around anymore. "She wasn't your cousin?"

"No, she said she was her classmate." They were both silent, wondering if this 'classmate' had been cursed as well.

"This might really be it," Jazz whispered hopefully.

"I hope so," Tucker no longer cared if he was indirectly responsible. He had swung back and forth between caring and not, but now it no longer mattered. He didn't care if he  _was_ related to some cruel person. It wasn't like it was one of his parents. He didn't care if that mean streak could run in his blood. He just wanted this best friend back and not this confused, frustrated being that was already whimpering on the bed. He wanted Danny back. They all did.


	10. Chapter 10

_I take a step forward then, I end up right back where, where I started from, back where I belong, away from reality,_

_This dream is never ending, I want to wake up from this dream, wake up from this dream. I can't help my mental state, I play hard but I never can win._ Dream by Rock Kills Kid

...

Tucker sat next to Danny. His friend was slowly trying to force his eyes open. Danny blinked a couple of times, trying to orient himself. Tucker leaned forward. "Danny?" he whispered.

Danny sat up, trying to determine where he was. Tucker was here. Maybe that meant he hadn't been killed after all. "Tuck-" Danny cut himself short. Something wasn't right. Tucker wasn't sitting. He was  _floating_  over the chair and was  _transparent_. Danny's eyes widened as his mind tried to wrap around this strange occurrence- surely, this couldn't mean... He was already dreading whatever was going to come out of his friend's mouth. Judging by the look on Tucker's face, he could guess he wasn't going to like it. "Tucker?" he squeaked.

"Danny," Tucker said with anguish, "why didn't you save me?"

"W-what?"

"You just stood there," Tucker's voice cracked. "You didn't even move." Tucker stared at Danny with sad, accusing eyes. "Why?"

"What?" Danny repeated, trying to gather his wits. "You- you-" he simply couldn't formulate the words to express himself.

"Why?" Tucker mournfully repeated his question.

Danny pushed the covers away from him and stood up, his eyes never leaving his friend's. Tucker held the gaze, but didn't move. "Why?" he asked again. There was no anger in him. Only sadness, dejection, and disappointment. Danny started backing away.

"I-I-I...I-" he stuttered, hopelessly tongue-tied. Finally, he found a word and spat it out continually,  _"Sorry!_ Sorry!" He held the gaze for another moment. "So sorry!" And with that, he turned and ran. He had to get out of that room, away from Tucker's lifeless eyes. He didn't glance back and didn't break his stride when he found himself in the hallway. He could hear his friend's question turning into a ghostly wail of "why" echoing off the hallway, threatening to suffocate Danny with the plaintiveness of the simple question. He dashed blindly forward, ignoring all the rooms, just hoping to find a door to exit this house. He didn't find a door, but he was rewarded with the sight of a staircase. He bounded down it, skipping as many steps as he could without tripping and falling down. He landed hard at the bottom, breathing heavily. "Sorry, sorry," he gasped out any time he had a moment to catch his breath. "So sorry," he muttered brokenly. When had he started crying?

He looked around wildly for an exit. There weren't any doors by the stairs. Weird. He sprinted down another hall. More stairs. He shoved aside any feelings of misgivings he might have, praying he wouldn't be doomed to be frantically hopping down staircases for the rest of eternity, trying to escape Tucker's ghost. But, he supposed, it would be well-deserved punishment. He had failed to save his friend. He blurted out several more teary apologies, completely unaware that Tucker's wail had vanished and he was surrounded by nothing but silence. He started skipping down this new set of stairs. About halfway through, the stairs began to shift and slowly melt away into nothingness. Danny halted in horror, still mumbling his apologies as the stairs completely vanished. "I'm sorry, so sorry."

"I know you're sorry!" A voice snapped. "But that's not going to bring our son back, is it?!" That silenced Danny's long string of unrelenting apologies. He briefly wondered if Tucker had heard any of them or cared. Had Tucker followed him here, wherever  _here_  was. He was so hopelessly confused. The stairs he had just been running down had become white tiles. Within seconds, a small kitchen had fallen into place around him. There was a girl here. She acted like nothing had just happened out of the ordinary. Like she hadn't just fallen out of the sky. He felt he should know who she was, yet he could not recall a name for her. Eggs were being fried on the stove.  _The stairs..._  Danny thought in a daze. They had just disappeared right from under his feet. He hadn't fallen or anything, but he was suddenly on an even surface. Was he losing his mind?

She was waving a spatula angrily in the air. "Well, it's not, is it?" she asked hatefully. "You should have listened to me."

"What son?" Danny asked.

_"What_  son?" she shouted, now in Danny's face.  _"What_ son?!" she fell silent and only their heavy breathing could be heard for a couple of very tense moments.  _"The one you lost!"_  she screeched, breaking the silence.

Danny reeled backwards. "I-I don't have any kids," he responded in shock. "I'm only fourteen," he finished lamely.

"Get out," she seethed, keeping her voice low and even. "Get out now." He stared at her uncertainly for a moment, feeling like he should offer an apology, but she wouldn't have any of it. When he didn't move, she bellowed,  _"Get out!"_

Danny backed out with wide eyes and spun on his heels, anxious to heed her command. He would love to get out of this strange house. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he wondered if Alice had felt this lost and confused in Wonderland. He made a mad dash down the hall. Where was the front door, the back door, side door,  _any_  door so long as it led out of this place! He could still hear her screaming after him. "You're  _thirty-seven! Thirty-seven!_ And completely  _useless! USELESS!"  
_  
He had to get away from that lunatic of a woman and Tucker's sad ghost. Her shouts were bouncing off the walls of the house, much like Tucker's wails had earlier. It made the place seem so much smaller, yet it felt like he was running down a never-ending hallway. He rounded a corner and his eyes lit up. There was a door at the end of the hall that had a bright green, glowing sign above it. The word "exit" was illuminated and it almost seemed like it was just teasing him to try to reach it before the woman or his friend's ghost caught up with him. He ran faster, his feet slapping loudly against the floor of the house. He could almost feel the relief wash over him as he neared it. So close. The feeling quickly vanished as he found himself yanked roughly into another room before he could reach the door. He tried breaking free of the grip, not wanting to look into the face of whoever was holding him captive for fear he might find Tucker's doleful eyes staring questioningly into his panicked ones. He couldn't break free, though, and the grip only tightened.

"Hey, chill, will you?!" someone yelped. A male voice, but definitely not Tucker's. Danny finally gave up and turned to look at this new person. He looked around thirteen or fourteen, Danny's age. Or at least, the age Danny thought he was, he thought, remembering that woman's shouts. He could still hear them, but they were growing further way for some reason that he could not understand. The new boy seemed completely oblivious to any angry shouts and was staring at Danny with concern. "Are you okay? Where's the fire?"

Danny opened his mouth to respond, but realized he had no idea what to say. He decided his best option would be to remain silent until he could figure out who this new kid was. The boy looked strangely similar to himself. He glanced around the room. Funny, it actually looked like he had been pulled into another house. This appeared to be the living room, with a TV, couches, a recliner, and-Danny did a double take-was that a  _Christmas tree?_  There was even a chimney with a fire going. There were no more distant screams. Just the cackle of the fire.  
Things were starting to feel a little  _too_  cozy.

"Well?" the boy asked with an arched brow. "You're kind of freaking me out, Charley."

He had Danny's full attention now. "What did you say?"

"I said 'you're kind of freaking me out, Charley.'"

"My name is Danny."

Now the boy was giving him a very odd look. "Your  _middle_  name is Daniel, but you've never gone by Danny. It's Charles Daniel, Charley for short. Dude, you don't remember your own name?" He gave him another odd look. "Do you remember my name?"

Danny slowly shook his head, trying to compute this new information. His name was Charles? But that-that- _that_ couldn't be possible? Could it? The boy's face fell. "You really don't remember my name?" He sighed, trying to regain his composure, but clearly Danny not remembering his name had hurt. "I'm William. You know? Your younger brother?"

_What?!_  Danny wanted to shout, but remained mute. Maybe this wasn't so shocking. After all, that woman just now had told him he had kids. This was a bit more believable. His head hurt so bad and he just wanted to sleep, but why could he never sleep anymore? "I-I don't have any brothers," he tried to explain but had a feeling this William would not be easy to pacify.

"Yes, you do! ME!" he insisted, waving off Danny's explanation. "It's okay, Charley. Mom and Dad told me about the car wreck. They said you were confused about your life. It's too bad it had to happen right at Christmas. Sally's parents are always crying now since she didn't make it and that other guy, Thomas, in the other car, he's still comatose. But I'm glad you're okay." William paused and studied his brother, rethinking his last statement, "Well, I'm glad you're  _sort of_  okay."

Danny blinked. Wait- what? Had he just said someone died and someone else was in a coma? And it's Christmas? William hopped from foot to foot. "Well, come on," he tugged at Danny's hand. "We have to open presents!" Danny let himself be led to the tree, which had piles of heaping Christmas gifts below it. Danny stopped, still having trouble believing any of this.

"I don't want this," he whispered.

William cocked his head. "What?"

"I know sometimes I thought I'd like to have a brother, but I don't want to trade a sister in order to get that," he tried to articulate to the other boy.

William frowned. "We don't have any sisters, Charley," he said, giving Danny another strange look. "Come on!" He pulled Danny over to the tree and excitedly began pulling presents out from underneath. "This is for me, and me, and me!" He laughed happily, ripping away the wrapping paper of some and squealing with delight when he caught sight of what his new toy was. After a few gifts had been opened, he realized that Danny had not yet moved to open even one. He sighed and pushed away some of his gifts so he could help his brother. "I'll find your gift, Charley."

Danny didn't frown, but found the statement odd. He didn't think it was jealousy, but  _all_  but one of those gifts were for William? Did his parents hate him or something? Maybe he was jealous, he wasn't sure. But he was pretty sure he'd had a sister with him at all the other times he'd been around a Christmas tree. It was just, just-Danny pursed his lips, feeling a wave of panic come over him. He couldn't remember her name. William's voice stopped Danny's descent into utter panic. "Hey, here's your gift," he said, offering it over. "Why don't you open it and see what you got, Charley?" he encouraged him, returning to his own piles and piles of gifts.

Danny held the box in his hands. It was small and wrapped in bright red paper with large, white snowflakes decorating it. He turned it over his hands and shook it. It felt...empty. It was so light. Surely, his parents wouldn't have bought him an empty box and wrapped it. He very carefully and slowly removed the paper. For some reason he couldn't explain, dread had settled in his chest and he knew something that he didn't like would be in the box. He had finally freed the box of the paper and very meticulously opened it. William continued to squeal and shriek with pleasure over his mountains of gifts. Danny peered into the box. Nothing. There was nothing there. He almost flung it across the room, but a sound stopped him. It was coming from the box.

He began to bring the box back up to his face, so he could better look at it. He was positive he must be going crazy. It sounded like someone was talking inside the box. He paused as a whisper met his ears. "Danny, you're not crazy." He frowned, confused. Had the box read his mind? Another whisper. "Danny, you need medicine." His frown deepened. That voice sounded so familiar. Another whisper. "Danny, why didn't you save me?" Wait, was that Tucker? Danny's hands clutched the box harder, suddenly wanting to hurl it again. Was Tucker going to float out of the box? Another whisper. Was this box full of  _whispers?_ "Charley, you're lucky you survived." What the?! Danny nearly dropped the box. What was going on? Another whisper. "Charley, Sally-she-she didn't make it. I'm so sorry." Overwhelmed would not begin to describe the dazed disbelief Danny found himself in. It had never occurred to him before, but was it possible he was living two alternate lives and they had somehow collided? He was shaking, trying to absorb all of this. He wanted to hurl the box away from himself, but his body refused to loosen it's vise-like grip.

"Hey," William bounded over with excitement. He peered into the box. "That's pretty cool."

Danny finally forced himself to look back in the box. There had been nothing in it before, but now there definitely was. The whispers must have been hiding it. Danny tried to dismiss the nagging thought that he had just thought like a total crazy person- _whispers_  couldn't physically hide things-could they? They had just hidden this thing that was in the box. It was a miniature diorama of a winter landscape. There was just snow and in the very center stood a lone snowman. The snowman gave off an eerie, green light that he thought was familiar, but couldn't place. That was it. It looked so innocent, but Danny felt shivers go up and down his spine and he had the goosebumps now. It foretold of a bleak future, he thought grimly. He was trembling. He didn't like this Christmas gift, he didn't like this Christmas at all, he didn't like this family. He didn't like this box of the freakish snowman all alone and being continuously snowed on.

"What?" William asked, noticing Danny's face turn pale as he studied the snowman. Danny didn't respond instead choosing to finally fling the box across the room. It hit the wall hard and snow exploded. Both boys watched in fascination which quickly turned to horror as the wall actually began collapsing. "What'd you do?!" William yelped as the large Christmas tree came tumbling down at him. Danny froze on the spot and watched in horror as the tree pinned the other boy who hollered in pain. The whole place was crumbling around Danny. William's pained cries were too much to bear. Danny spun on his heels. He couldn't remember his sister's name, but he knew William was not his brother or someone to be trusted. He was the one who had given Danny the exploding box full of whispers after all.

He ran out of the room determined to find his way out of this place with no more distractions. The exit door was still there! It wasn't far at all. Danny ran at it like his life depended on it, which he feared it did. He had to get out of this crumbling house. He finally reached the exit door and pushed it open, already relishing the fresh air. He didn't bother looking back at the house as he bolted from it. He didn't get but a few steps, though. Snow came out of nowhere and trapped him. It covered him to his shoulders. He stood in it, shocked, unable to move. What had just happened? He waited to hear the sound of a house crashing and for smoke and rubble to pile around him along with the snow, but it never came. He finally twisted his head enough to look behind him and gaped at the empty space. There was no house. There was nothing but white in every direction, save a few desolated, grayish buildings that almost washed out in the snow. This place felt so very familiar.

He looked straight ahead, trying to figure out what had just happened. He had no answers. He heard noise and waited for someone to appear. They rounded the corner, mumbling to themselves. "Sam!" Danny cried, relieved at the sight of a friend, temporarily forgetting what had happened the last time he had seen her. She glanced over at him, but didn't answer, continuing to kick up snow and muttering to herself. Danny bit his lip, hoping she would decide to talk to him. When it looked as though she would continue to ignore him, he decided to speak up again. "Please, say something," he pleaded. He was desperate for her to say anything. Maybe she could explain the strange, vanishing house.

"Why do you want to talk to me, Charley?" she asked with a sneer.

"Um, my name is Danny," he whispered, suddenly not so certain himself. What was his real name?

"Whatever,  _Danny._ " She crossed her arms. "You don't want to talk to me," she stated simply. "You hate me."

"No, that's not true," he cried. Why would he hate her?

"Yes, you do."

"Why?"

Sam lowered her eyes for a second, before looking at Danny again. He shuddered. Her eyes looked so endless, there was no warmth there at all. "Because," she muttered darkly, "I killed someone you care for deeply."

_Oh, please, no!_ Danny thought desperately. She really  _had_  killed Tucker! He felt like he had just been sucker punched in the stomach. He thought he might hurl if he wasn't so cold.  _Please, no._

Sam said nothing else and just stared at Danny for a minute before melding into the whiteness that surrounded them. More noise announced the presence of another person. It was a girl. Danny knew her, but he couldn't recall her name. Still in shock over Sam's announcement, he explained in a strained voice, "I forgot your name," he whispered.

The girl gave a bark of laughter to his surprise. "No, you haven't. I've never given it to you," she said airily. "So, Danny, Charley, whoever you are, how are you liking life?"

"What?" Danny asked.

"Ah, that's right, you've been too confused to even bother living it. It's a real shame, you know? Other people's lives are still marching on. No one can freeze time, after all. It's sad, isn't it? People just learn how to adapt and deal with things, leaving the rest of us behind. The ones who don't just want to adapt, but want to  _change_  things, want to grab the world and make it bow down to us."

Danny shot her a horrified look. Was she crazy? She laughed again. "Oh, that's rich. You think  _I_  might be crazy?" she snorted with amusement.

Danny tried to respond, he had to tell her something, but the snow began to whirl around them both. At first, the girl looked a bit confused, but it quickly faded away and she grinned broadly. "This ought to be fun."

Danny felt himself being pulled out of the snow. Something was helping him, but what? Danny already didn't trust whatever it was. His vision blurred and he could see nothing but black for several long moments. He was hoping he would fade into unconsciousness, but it never came to relieve him from this crazy world. He reluctantly forced his eyes open. His mind felt clearer, but he was still so confused about everything. He wasn't sure of his name, age, family, or his friends.

He was in another house, but this one didn't seem as unwelcoming or creepy as the last he'd been in. There were blankets over him. He was on a couch. He sat up slowly, taking in the decorative pictures on the wall. None were of people, all were exquisite pieces of art. He heard tapping of a keyboard and looked over in that general direction. Someone was at a desk in the far corner of the room, behind a computer. Danny squinted, trying to see if he could recognize the person. They peeked from around the computer having heard him shift in his blankets. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Danny wide awake and she pushed her chair out from behind the desk.

Danny frowned. She looked familiar, but something seemed so off about her. She smiled at him, but it was forced and restrained. She looked to be about middle-age. There was a grim air about her like she'd been forced to live in a way she wasn't fond of. Her eyes were full of sadness, loneliness, and something else he couldn't place, but they warmed slightly when they met his eyes. "Hey," she said, taking a seat by him. "How are you feeling?"

"Terrible," he answered bluntly.

She chuckled lightly. "I'm sure," she said.

"Who are you?"

The laughter that had been in her eyes vanished and she regarded Danny seriously. "It's me, Sam."

Danny nearly choked. "W-what?!" he demanded. But she looked like she was in her forties, if not fifties!

She sighed. "I know, it's odd. I brought you here for a reason. Weren't you just in a pile of snow?"

"H-how did you know?" Danny managed to get out, staring at Sam in wonder and panic. What was going on and who was this new Sam? Why was he here and why did she know about the snow he'd been in?! Had she really aged this much since he'd just seen her when he'd been  _in_  the snow? He recalled what the other girl had said about how time would march on for other people while he was stuck in the snow; she hadn't been kidding around!

"You were?" Sam leaned forward. "Where was it? Like to your chest?" She made motions with her hands to accompany her question.

"No, it covered my shoulders completely," he answered. Her face crumpled with disappointment at this. He wasn't sure why he felt she should know, but he figured it would be okay. Tears sprang to his eyes. He felt oddly comfortable in this Sam's presence. "I'm not sure of my own name. I don't know if it's Danny or Charley."

"It's Danny," she told him gently, but firmly.

"I can't remember my sister's name," he said miserably.

"It's Jazz," she said quietly.

He sucked in a deep breath, trying to gather the courage to ask the next question. "Did you kill Tucker?"

Sam sighed sadly. "No, Danny," she said, "but I did kill somebody. Actually, I'm responsible for the death of three people. You won't like me."

"Who?" Danny asked, relieved and alarmed at once. She hadn't killed Tucker! But who had she killed?

"You won't like me. I thought I could fix things, but I mistimed it. It was a one time only type of thing and it took me forever to perfect. I must have missed the moment by just several hours," she lamented. "This is the second time I've screwed up with this." Danny didn't understand a thing she said, but felt himself being tugged away. He could feel snow on his skin. "I'm sorry, Danny."

"Is that why you are so sad?" he asked, trying to fight the insistent tugging he felt. He had to find out more about this Sam. "Your eyes- they're full of..." Danny trailed off, not sure how to express what was in her eyes.

"Regret?" she supplied for him.

"Yes, why are you so full of regret?"

She offered him a sad smile before explaining, "Someone once told me that a person with no regrets has lived a sad life because they learned nothing from it. They simply pushed ahead, never bothering to learn from their mistakes. Never really taking the time to understand that there  _are_  things that you should regret."

"But if they make you so sad is it really worth the lessons learned?"

"If you never learn lessons in life, then your entire life is a sad waste. So, yes, it is worth it. Somethings happen in life that fill you with sadness, but it doesn't mean you can just forget about it because you don't like how it makes you feel. There is no purpose to that."

Danny eyed her uncertainly. "What is the purpose to it exactly?"

Sam chuckled again. "A good question. I think that answer varies from person to person, but I have learned that each experience you either enjoy or suffer through adds something meaningful to your life. Don't forget that, Danny."

The tugging was more insistent now, he felt himself began to slowly fade. He looked at her with wide eyes. "Is that really true?" he whispered, trying to determine how what he had been going through would help him in life. "Aren't some things just a waste?"

"Nothing's a waste," she insisted. "I'm sorry, Danny. But, now, I can be at peace. I know I tried everything. I'm really sorry."

"For what?!" he cried, but she was no longer there. Danny had no time to try to gain his bearings as he found himself buried in snow to his chin. He looked around wildly. Where had the house he'd been in with Sam gone to? It had simply ceased to exist. He felt his mind grow foggier outside of the older Sam's presence.

He could hear a giggle and that familiar girl appeared in his line of vision. It was weird, like she had just walked out of the whiteness and simply materialized before him. "Hey," she greeted with a grin. "How are you doing?"

"I don't like it here," he answered simply, his mind still reeling over everything that had happened. It was like all the events were colliding into each other and he couldn't separate them from each other. It was mentally exhausting to even attempt it for he didn't understand over half of what had happened.

"This is cruel, isn't it?" she asked, waving her hand around, indicating him in the snow, the whiteness around them, and the old, abandoned buildings nearby. It was a depressing little plaza that had seen the last of its days. "It's not very nice of her, is it?"

"Of who?"

"You know, the person who made you?"

Danny stared at her. "I'm sorry, I think I misheard you."

"The person who made you, it's not nice of her to leave you here like this."

"I don't understand," Danny said.

"Oh!" The girl gave him a look of pitying surprise. "You have no idea, do you?" He shook his head in response. She sighed sadly. "That is so very sad. She must think she's being kind, but really, it's so very cruel of her."

"What are you talking about?" Danny asked desperately, trying to figure out her logic.

"You think you're a real person?"

"Uhh," Danny shifted under the snow nervously, not liking where this was going. "Yeah?"

She shook her head again. "No, I'm afraid people like you and I are simply figments of other people's imaginations." She pursed her lips. "But your person doesn't want to let go and get on with her life. It's driving her crazy."

"What are you getting at it exactly?" he asked with dread.

"She always wanted a little brother, but her parents didn't have any more kids, so you came into existence."

Danny gaped at her in astonishment. "Are you saying I'm someone's  _imaginary friend?"_

"We both are."

"No, no, no," Danny was shaking his head. "No, that's wrong. I have friends and a family."

"Have you ever noticed how your sister is always around and so very concerned about your well-being? Have you noticed how much trouble you have with life? Have you noticed all the insane stuff you are capable of doing that is practically unexplainable? Do you really think you'd be able to achieve any of that if you'd ever been a real, solid human being?" the girl questioned with a mean glint in her eyes. "Don't you think it's time you told your sister to release you from this world?" She paused. "But, wait, she isn't really your sister after all, is she? You have a little brother instead? Is that because she wanted you to have one?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "If you care about anything at all, you'd tell her to get on with her life."

Danny was still shaking his head in disbelief. That just couldn't be. Half of what she said made sense, but the other half left him confused, empty, and wanting to attack her on the spot. "Remember what I said," she warned as she melded back into the white expanse that stretched in every direction as far as the eye could see. Danny stared ahead in horrified shock, turning the girl's words over and over in his head, trying to dismiss them as a bogus lie, but he just couldn't let it go. Some of it had made sense. Was his sister even capable of that-and if she really were his sister, why was he having so much trouble recalling her name? The desolate plaza slowly vanished and Danny found himself completely alone in the white expanse covered in snow to his chin with flakes dancing around him. The unbidden thought of the exploding snowman popped back into his mind and he tried to shake it away, but couldn't. Tears were silently trekking down his cheeks as he tried to put everything into perspective but failed to do so. He felt like he was going to explode just like that snowman.

"Danny?" someone's voice cut into the expanse. A bed rose from below him and his sister fell from the sky. She was looking down at him with concern and didn't seem fazed that she'd just dropped from above. "Hey, it's going to be okay." The glaringly bright white expanse didn't bother her at all, either. Danny wondered if maybe it were actually normal for people to drop from out of nowhere. No, that couldn't be right. But if she was capable of calmly dropping through air, that only served to solidify the nameless girl's explanation about his life as her imaginary friend.

He shook his head. "You have to stop imagining these worlds," he tried to tell her. "It's not good." He still wasn't entirely sure if it were true, but, in case it were, he figured he'd better start working at her to let him go.

"What are you talking about, Danny?" she asked, resting her hand on his head. She frowned and sighed. "Well, you're not running a fever, but you sure are sweating a lot." She paused, thinking things over. "Maybe your body is responding this way because of your ghost form? It is odd that you haven't really had to use the bathroom, either," she mulled aloud, seeming to talk more to herself than Danny. But these actions were not sitting well with Danny for it looked as though she really was concerned with controlling what was going on with him. He grasped her hand in desperation.

"Please," he whispered. "You can't keep this up. Let me go already."

She squeezed his hand hard before looking him levelly in the eye. "Danny, I will never give up on you. Ever. We will work through this."

"But-" he cried in protest. Why didn't she understand? She needed to let him go; this was torture.

She faded from his vision more slowly than other things had. He could still see her hand gripping his tightly until even that dissipated into the thin air. Large, overgrown leaves sprang to life around him, blocking his sight and brushing against his body. He could hear a river rushing over rocks nearby. There was smoke in the air and a feeling of urgency gripped his very being. Something was not right. He rushed forward, pushing aside leaves and trying not to trip over hidden roots. He wasn't sure how he knew where to run to, but he knew this was where he was supposed to go.

There was an odd sound coming from up ahead and the smoke thickened as he got closer to his destination. He pushed some more plants out of the way and came to a clearing, staring in horror at the sight that greeted him. A large plane had crashed into the clearing. The front half of it had smashed into the ground hard. Pieces of the plane littered the area. It was still smoking and the smell of burning flesh hung in the air. This had happened recently. Danny glanced down at his tattered appearance and came to the conclusion that he must have been on that plane when it crashed. But why couldn't he remember something as traumatic as that? Who had he been on the plane with?! There was no way he had been traveling alone!

He raced towards the plane, determined to search out any person he might recognize or find anyone who might still be alive. He was close to the entrance when someone grabbed him and pulled him back. "Where are you going, Danny?"

Danny spun around to face Sam. "Sam! What's going on?! The plane- I don't remember anything!"

Sam stared at him. "You don't remember? But it just happened!"

"I don't remember," he explained miserably. "Please tell me Tucker wasn't on the plane."

Sam averted her eyes to the ground. "Sorry," she mumbled. "He was. So was Jazz."

"No, no,  _no!"_  Danny shook his head, reeling backwards towards the plants. Maybe he could go and get lost in them and forget any of this ever happened. Sam gave him a pitying look.

"I'm sorry, Danny, but acting like that isn't going to bring them back and it isn't going to get us rescued. We need to find some food." Her own eyes looked lifeless and her voice sounded mechanical.

"No, no, no," Danny muttered insistently. He began to run away from her, from the clearing, from the plane that held the bodies of his sister and best friend. He didn't notice how the plants ebbed away into solid walls. He wasn't aware that the plant he just pushed away was a door he'd hurriedly swung open. His mind didn't process the hallway he running down, instead believing he was still racing around in a jungle. A hand stopped him and Danny stared at the man, mouth agape. What was a man doing in the jungle? He was bald and covered in tattoos. Sunglasses were perched atop his head.

"Hey, kid, you feel better? I hope they gave you some coffee."

Danny stared at the man uncomprehending. "Plane," he gasped out. "Crashed."

He received an odd look and the man cleared his throat. "Well, I can see you're still under the influence. Maybe you should go back to your room?" He was reaching for Danny's arm, but Danny wouldn't have any of it. He didn't trust this strange jungle man. He hopped away from the man and continued his desperate race away from this horrible nightmare. He could hear the man call after him, but he didn't look back.

He bounded down a little cliff, unaware they were stairs, seeing only dirt and rock and a dark abyss below, not the carpeted stairs he was slowly hobbling down. He ran some more until he was out of breath and simply didn't know where to go. He passed a couple other bewildered people wandering around the jungle. He wasn't sure if they were survivors of the crash or not, but he didn't pause to find out. He didn't want to speak to anyone, either way. He just wanted to find a place to rest by himself and try to figure out what to do with what remained of his shattered life.

He finally spotted an inviting, deserted place and went to it. It was so shady and had a nice little pool, almost like it was an oasis. He moved forward, unaware he was simply entering another room and that the little pool was just a cornflower blue, circular rug. He slowly laid down on a little cliff above the pool, not noticing how soft the supposed rocks were. His eyes fluttered closed, completely oblivious that he had just run through the motel at top speed and was resting in someone else's room. He thought he would be granted sleep, but he was wrong.

Danny's mouth dropped open for he was no longer in the jungle, but instead in a place that was loud and buzzing with multiple conversations. Tucker was sitting across from him, chattering away. And very much alive. His dialogue stopped and he leaned forward, studying Danny with concern.

"Hey! Anybody in there?" he demanded, his voice edged with panic.

"Uh, sorry," Danny muttered, still glancing around, trying to figure out where they were. "I was distracted."

Tucker rolled his eyes, lazily pointing a fork at him. "Yeah, yeah, you're always distracted, Charley."

Danny's eyes snapped back over to his friend's. "What?" he whispered, growing visibly pale.

"What?" Tucker asked, his concern increasing. "What'd I say? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Danny narrowed his eyes. Why did Tucker look older? And so grim and rough around the edges. "Tucker, where are we?"

Tucker frowned. "Charley," he began hesitantly, "my name is Thomas. And we've been here for a few years now. We're in prison, remember?"

_**"What?!"**_  Danny sputtered, not sure which part of Tucker's sentence was more shocking. Now Tucker had a new name, too?! Danny shook his head fiercely from side to side. "No, no, I just spoke to Sam and she said my name was Danny."

Tucker's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Who's this Sam?"

Danny's mouth fell open. "Uh, uh, our friend!"

Tucker shook his head. "Sorry, Char, don't know who you're talking about." Danny stared at his friend in dismay. Deciding that Sam's name must have changed too, he decided to drop the argument and ask a different question.

He leaned forward and whispered, "Tuc-Thomas, why are we in  _prison?"_

Tucker dropped his head into his hands and groaned, "This again?"

Danny chewed his lower lip, trying to shake the strange feeling he was getting. It was as if he'd been here before, but something was even more wrong than the last time, but he'd never been in a prison before! "I'm sorry," he muttered. "But I really don't know why."

"Remember how we couldn't find your brother for weeks?"

Danny blinked and slowly shook his head. "I don't have any brothers," he whispered.

"Uh, well," Tucker looked very uncomfortable now, "not...anymore. But you did. I'm sorry."

He had misunderstood, Danny realized and he shook his head again. "No, I mean, I've never had any brothers. I have an older sister."

Tucker gaped at him. "What? Uh, sorry, Charles, but you've only ever had one little brother. You don't have any older siblings, much less an older sister. You wanna hear the story of how we got in here?"

Danny numbly nodded his head and listened as Tucker or Thomas or whoever this person was in front of him launched into a frightful story of how his brother was violently murdered during a gang initiation. He grew increasingly agitated as Tucker spun the sordid tale. He was upset about what happened, he was upset he didn't know his own name, he was upset he didn't know Tucker's name, he was upset that he never had a sister, yet had a younger brother he couldn't remember. Why was he so confused? His mind flashed back to a lone snowman in a box. He heard a male voice squealing excitedly, but couldn't remember who it was. The snowman, it had exploded. Was  _he_  going to explode like the snowman? He felt as if he would just burst any second. Danny had a sneaking suspicion that the snowman had represented him and hoped he would not meet the same fate.

He listened more to Tucker's story, but now, he was not only agitated but angry as well. He continued to think about the snowman, the box of anonymous whispers, the older Sam, this new Tucker who said his name was Thomas, the sister's whose name he had forgotten, and the strange woman who had yelled at him about losing a child. Nothing made any sense and now this Thomas person who looked exactly like Tucker was saying his younger brother had been violently beaten to death. It was too much to take. He had to stop this, he had to- he launched himself across the table at his friend without thinking, surprising them both.

They landed on the floor with a thud, Tucker pinned beneath the very confused and angry Danny. Danny shook his friend's shoulders, resisting the urge he felt to punch his friend. "Take it back!" he screamed, "Take it back! Your name is Tucker, not Thomas, and I don't have any younger brothers!  _No one's_  dead, no one's been  _murdered!"_  Angry tears tracked down his face as he desperately screamed his throat raw at his bewildered friend.

Finally, Danny fell silent, the only sound being his labored breathing. Tucker was staring up at him wide-eyed and Danny realized this Tucker looked more like the familiar one he was used to. "Thomas?" he muttered uncertainly, his anger fading away as Tucker continued to stare up at him in fright.

"Uh," Tucker mumbled. "...Danny?" His eyes darted around, looking for someone to call out to for help. "Are you okay?" he asked helplessly, knowing full well the answer to that.

Danny quickly rolled off his friend, his face heating with shame and embarrassment. Tucker remained flat on his back, still wide-eyed for a couple moments before slowly forcing himself to stand up beside his friend. Tucker dusted his pants, regarding Danny cautiously, lest his friend try to wildly pin him to the ground again.

"Uh, sorry," Danny muttered, following suit and dusting his pants off as well. Tucker didn't respond, subtlety moving away from his oblivious friend.

"You need some serious help," he muttered, averting his eyes from Danny's questioning ones.

"I said I was sorry."

"You could have killed me!" Tucker exclaimed.

Danny was aghast at this wild accusation. "What?! No, I would never-!" He cut himself off at the disbelieving look that Tucker was throwing his way. "I wouldn't," he whispered with conviction.

"I know you wouldn't  _mean_  to, but that doesn't help, does it?" Tucker demanded. "It's not going to raise Sam or Jazz from their graves. We  _tried_  to help, but you're just too dangerous to be around."

Danny felt ill. His face was ashen as he replayed Tucker's words over again and again in his mind. Surely, he had misheard him. Surely, the implication that Tucker had made was some kind of twisted, sick lie. "What?" he choked out, feeling as though the world were crashing down on his shoulders. He fell to his knees, shaking his head. "No, no, what you said- you're lying."

Tucker shook his head sadly. "Sorry, Danny," he muttered, disappearing out of a nearby door. It resounded with a loud slam and Danny finally realized he was in a large, bright white, empty room with a long mirror on the right side. He was sure he was being observed from the other side. He was in an asylum. He  _was_  crazy.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This chapter happens simultaneously with the last. Both take place over the course of one day.)

Sam pressed her forehead against the window, staring forlornly out at the streets. It was early in the morning and she was exhausted. She and Tucker had agreed to take the Greyhound bus to his cousin's place. It was an eight hour ride to reach New Salem, the town she lived in. They were both going to be in such hot water when this was all said and done. They had gotten tickets at the last minute which had been pretty pricey. Sam had paid, figuring there was no price too high to fix the condition Danny was in. She hadn't told her parents; she knew they wouldn't let her skip a whole day of school like this. She had decided it best to take the high road and go by the saying that it was better to ask forgiveness than permission.

She shot a surreptitious glance at Tucker. He had been unusually reserved. Sam guessed he was having trouble dealing with the fact there were real loons in his family. She couldn't blame him. Truth be told, she was gratefully relieved that it wasn't anyone in  _her_  family. She always thought herself to be the oddest person in the family, anyway.

She squeezed her eyes shut as she thought about the previous evening in which Danny had completely flipped out at her. She hadn't been able to get a wink of sleep because of it. It had left such an unpleasant and intense anger within her. She hated it, but couldn't let it go. Danny had thought  _she_  was a murderer! She gritted her teeth and tried to force the horrible thought away. She knew he wasn't in his right mind, but she was still disappointed that he was not nearly as strong as she had thought.

Tucker sighed. He and Sam had tried to work this out so they would both arrive at home around ten that night. So, they had to get on the bus at four in the morning, which meant they had gotten none of the extra sleep they had promised Jazz they would. If they weren't already on edge before, they were now. They had been hoping to snooze some on the bus, but he feared both their minds were too busy in overdrive to sleep. He heaved another sigh.

Sam glared at him. "Hey, what's with all the sighing? A bit early for that."

"I just hope it's okay that we left Jazz alone for the whole day."

"She wanted us to both go to school, anyway," Sam pointed out. It was true. Jazz's concern over their schooling was steadily increasing. Sam was worried that Jazz had resigned herself to her current role for life. Jazz had said that they probably both needed to start going to school and could alternate in the evenings. Everyone had been too tired to argue and Sam had explained that she was going to accompany Tucker to his cousin's. At first, Jazz hadn't been too sure if either of them should approach someone who might could be considered dangerous, especially if she were capable of placing curses on people, but in the end, she simply hadn't the energy to convince them otherwise. She found some solace that they were both going together.

"I know." Tucker shook his head. "I'm worried about her. She looks like a zombie."

"Yeah, I don't think she's slept in- well, days."

"We haven't, either, but we don't look  _that_ bad."

Sam gave him a skeptical look. "We  _do_  look pretty bad, Tucker." It was true. Their clothes weren't tattered or anything, but there were dark circles beneath their eyes and each had a strange, glazed look about them.

"Still not as bad as her. I'm worried she's just going to collapse while on some stairs and hurt herself."

Sam's eyebrows shot up at this. She wasn't sure if it was the fatigue or if she just wanted something to smile about and teasing Tucker would definitely bring a smile to her bedraggled face. "Oh, Tuck, you're  _that_  concerned about... _Jazz?_  Is there something going on I should know about?" She gave him a lopsided grin and nudged him.

Tucker was not amused. "Har de har," he deadpanned. "Not funny."

Her smile fell quickly. Clearly, he was not in the mood. "Right. She does need to get some sleep, but she's always stuck in that motel. It's pretty much consumed her." She laced her fingers together. "You did tell her about her parents, right?"

"Yeah," Tucker replied. "And mine, too. Still can't believe they ran into each other like that."

"I know. What are the odds?"

"Not in our favor, apparently," Tucker informed her with a smirk.

Sam rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help the small smile that formed on her lips. "Too early for this," she muttered.

Despite Tucker's initial fears of them not getting any sleep, the duo eventually succumbed to the much needed shuteye after about an hour. Sam's head remained planted against the window, while Tucker had slumped against his friend, using her shoulder as a makeshift pillow. They might have slept right past their stop if not for Tucker's hungry stomach which grumbled loudly about twenty minutes before they were due to arrive at their destination.

He pulled himself away from Sam, hoping against hope that he had not drooled on her shoulder. He could not imagine many more things that would be more embarrassing than that. He blinked a few times, trying to figure out where they were and gasped when he realized how close they were to his cousin's town. He shook Sam excitedly. "Hey, hey, wake up! We're almost there!"

Sam slowly opened her eyes, groaning a bit with the effort. Tucker was in her face, grinning broadly from ear to ear. "Welcome to the land of the living, sleeping beauty!" he crowed. Sam found herself rolling her eyes again and hit him on the shoulder.

"Whatever. I know you were sleeping practically the whole time, too."

The sleep really had put them both in much higher spirits. Nothing seemed as bleak or grim when well rested. Tucker nodded. "Yeah, and I'm starving now." He hadn't been eating much the last few days and he could tell that Jazz and Sam were eating even less judging by the weight they had shed in such a short time. "I hope there's a nice burger place here."

Sam was happy she had been able to sleep, though it had been a bit fitful, but she wasn't sure she'd be able to eat much. She just didn't have an appetite anymore. "Yeah," she agreed noncommittally. The pair chatted on and off about nothing, just filling the short time with some words in hopes it would make it go by faster. The bus finally pulled up to their stop and the two jumped up, practically flying off the bus.

Tucker's stomach growled loudly again once they were on the street. "Definitely lunchtime," he muttered, checking his watch. "I hope Etta has some food waiting."

Sam took a moment to stretch after such a long ride. She looked over at the bright, noon sun. "Yeah, it's lunchtime," she agreed. "But do we want to eat something from someone who can curse us if we don't like her food?" She tore her eyes away from the sky, trying to fight off the uneasy feeling at the sight of dark clouds in the distance. The last thing they needed was bad weather.

"Good point. Let's stop at a place on the way there."

The two looked around. There wasn't much here. The town was very small and very much a backwater place that not many exciting things happened at. "Well, let's start walking and we'll stop at the first place we see," Sam suggested. Tucker nodded and the two took off at a steady pace, making sure to follow the directions Tucker had printed out. There were no cabs so they'd be on foot, but they had estimated Etta's house to be about twenty, possibly thirty minutes from the bus station. They found a small, hole-in-the-wall restaurant and stopped in for lunch. Sam simply had a small salad much to Tucker's dismay. He ate a burger with fries and the two left, feeling even better and more ready to face Tucker's mysterious cousin and her friend.

All in all, it had taken an hour since the bus dropped them off, but both felt like they had made pretty good time. "Well, here we are," Tucker announced as they approached the house with the appropriate address. Sam followed Tucker, taking in their surroundings. She had imagined the house looking like something the Adam's family would live in, but it was nestled in a quiet, little neighborhood. The house itself looked completely ordinary. It was hard to believe a person bent on cursing people might reside inside of it.

They both approached the door, trying to quell their nerves. Sam was a little better at hiding her unease than Tucker, who was starting to look downright terrified. "Tucker," she hissed. "Try not to look so scared. We haven't even rang the doorbell."

"M-me? I'm not scared," he weakly protested, but there was no fire in his voice. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to regain composure. After a moment, he figured that was as good as he was going to get and he rang the bell. They waited in silence for the door to open, both wondering what the person on the other side would look like. After a few moments, the door creaked open and an elderly woman greeted them.

Sam first noticed how pale the woman was, the piecing green eyes she possessed, and the strange way her snow-white hair hung about her face. It was so stringy and unkempt. She stole a look at Tucker, trying to place this woman as a distant relative as his, but failed. The woman was paler than her for Pete's sake!

Tucker was having similar thoughts, wondering why his mother didn't mention anything about her unnerving physical appearance. She looked like was a Halloween costume. He shuddered to think there wasn't someone else hiding in that body. The woman studied the two of them as well before finally speaking. "Ah, you must be Tucker Foley and his mysterious friend. Etta is waiting for you. Come," she waved at them to follow and Tucker and Sam exchanged a glance. So, this wasn't Etta, but the woman Tucker had spoken to on the phone. They followed her closely, staring in wonder at the inside of the house.

The whole house looked like something out of a movie. There were odd knickknacks here and there. Painted brooms were everywhere and there was a ton of red and gold all over the place. A picture of a lion was painted in various places. Tucker frowned, trying to figure out why this all felt familiar. It was like he'd seen some of this before. He shot a look at Sam and could tell she felt the same. There was something oddly familiar about this house. The woman led them into a room that held even more strange things. There was a statue of an egg hatching with a dragon peeking out at them. A small table was off to the side and there were cabinets in strange places. A tall woman sat at the table. Her skin was similar to that of Tucker's and her gray hair was neatly swooped into a bun. She didn't appear nearly as scary as the first woman. She turned towards them when she heard them enter the room.

"Hi," she greeted. She might have been old but she spoke with clarity, "Come, sit." She indicated the chairs across the table from her. The other woman bowed at them and vanished, mumbling something about needing to feed a dragon. Sam and Tucker stared after her, speechless. The new lady, presumably Etta, chuckled. "She's quite a character isn't she?"

"Uh, yeah," Sam muttered. "Uh, Mrs. Etta?"

"Just Etta, dear," the woman told her. Her voice held a warm, friendly tone to it. Tucker and Sam both felt comfortable around her nearly instantly, but something about the other woman and the eerie familiarity of the house left them feeling out of sorts. "So," the woman smiled brightly at Tucker, "you must be my cousin Amy's been telling me would drop by for a visit. Tucker Foley, right? I haven't seen your mother in forever."

Tucker nodded. "Yes ma'am, that's me."

"And what's your name, dear?"

"Sam. Sam Manson."

Etta was still smiling when she'd turned back to Sam, but at Sam's name her smile faltered a little and she studied Sam with intensity for a few very uncomfortable moments. Sam shifted nervously, eyes darting around the place, trying to avoid Etta's suddenly scrutinous ones. Tucker took note of this and decided to try to distract his older cousin. "Uh, so, that was Amy just now then?"

Etta slowly looked away from Sam and nodded. "Yes. Amy. We've known each other since grade school."

"Has she always been so-" Tucker cut himself off belatedly realizing he might offend Etta if he called her friend "strange." He knew so little about them. Did they live together? Were they just friends? Why had Etta given Sam that strange look? It was as if his cousin had wanted to ask something very serious, but simply couldn't. It was unnerving.

"Strange?" Etta supplied. Tucker nodded sheepishly and was about to apologize, but she cut him off with a slight wave of her hands. "Don't apologize. She is strange and, no, she didn't always used to be this way," she explained sadly, but it was clear by her tone there was acceptance in it. "It was a car wreck that happened in our teenage years. It messed up her brain. Her mother took care of her until she passed away around twenty years ago. I have since."

Both Sam and Tucker looked at her in astonished horror. She decided to elaborate further. "I feel like I should," she answered the unasked question that was written on both their faces. "It was a drunk driver that hit us and it was just her bad luck that she had decided not to drive that evening. The other car slammed into the passenger side. She was comatose for weeks and when she awoke, she was never quite right again." Etta had obviously told this story more than once and already grieved for her friend as she spoke about it as though she was simply giving them a recipe. Etta grinned at them. "She lives in fantasies. They change every now and then and we decorate accordingly. It used to be Alice in Wonderland. That was fun. Now she's been rather fond of Harry Potter for a few years."

It hit both Tucker and Sam instantaneously. That was why the place felt so familiar. Etta and Amy had decorated it to resemble the world of Harry Potter portrayed in the movies. The room they were sitting in right now looked like a homage to Hagrid's humble home. It certainly wasn't an exact replica, but once informed you could definitely see the resemblances. The pair exchanged a look of disbelief.  _Wow, these women are crazy._ The thought crossed both youths' minds. It was just odd for two elderly ladies to put so much effort into imitating a fictional world. It was only made odder when they both remembered that Amy actually believed she was  _in_  the world of wizardry. Now Tucker's phone conversation with her made more sense.

Etta's smile broadened at their stupefied expressions. She shrugged. "I figure I can at least humor her. Poor thing. It's the least I can do."

Tucker felt a sudden terror grip him. He couldn't stave off the awful visions of himself or Sam having to take care of Danny into their old age.

Sam felt anger and frustration surge through her. Why couldn't Danny be stronger? He was every bit as crazy as this Amy and yet he hadn't even been involved in a fatal car crash.

"So," Etta said into the silence, "I doubt you suddenly just decided to take an eight hour ride here just to meet your crazy old cousin," she spoke to Tucker, waiting for him to meet her eyes before continuing, "I'm sure your mother didn't approve of this visit. So,  _why_  are you here?"

Tucker shifted uncomfortably, trying to get his mind working at the same fast pace as his cousin's. How could she just drop bombs like her best friend was mentally damaged in a car wreck years ago and lives in fantasy worlds so casually? "Uh," he began hesitantly, "uh, Amy said on the phone that you practice the Art of Cursage."

Etta raised her brows. "Well, Amy practices a lot of spells. Well, she thinks she does. I'd never let her actually get a real spell book or anything. Besides that, she only practices the spells from the Harry Potter books."

"So, you don't curse people?"

"Heavens, no," Etta insisted quietly. "And I certainly wouldn't allow Amy to. I've seen what horrors meet the people that get involved with that sort of thing," she said, stealing another look at Sam.

At this, Sam became defensive. "Just because I look like this doesn't mean  _I_ get involved in that  _sort_  of thing," she grumbled in protest.

Etta bit her lip and looked over Sam again. "Isn't your mother Pamela Turner? Though, I believe that is her maiden name as she has the last name Manson now."

Sam and Tucker both snapped to attention at this. "How do you know that?" Sam whispered in disbelief.

"She used to live here, years back."

Tucker and Sam shared a confused look, both slowly shaking their heads. "My mother's only ever lived in Amity..." Sam tried to insist, but trailed off at Etta's look of sympathy.

"No, I'm positive she used to live here. I know she moved away years ago and I know she eventually married. Her last name is now Manson and she lives in Amity Park. Her mother spent her whole life here. She actually just lived down the street from me for years."

Sam had known that her maternal grandmother came from another town, but she had always been told that she had moved to Amity long before she'd had Sam's mother.

Etta went on, "Yes, your mother and her older sister also lived here until their teenage years. It's a sad story." She looked at Sam's shocked face. "One I suppose you've never been told?"

Sam was shaking her head rather violently now. "My mother doesn't have any older sisters," she said defensively. "You must be confused." Living with Amy must be driving Etta mad, too. Tucker did not like where this was going, but they had to know. They had come all this way and Etta was offering up information. The whole day would be a waste if they didn't get something out of it.

It was insanely suspicious that Sam's mother had suddenly acquired a sister and even stranger that Sam had never heard of her. How could one keep secret the fact they'd had a sister? It was unfathomable to Tucker. There would have to be a lot of evidence destroyed, not too mention one could never slip up and accidentally talk about something the two siblings might have done together. And if they'd both been around the same age as Etta was implying then wouldn't they have attended school together, gone to the dances and games with each other, and even shared the same friends?

"What happened?" he asked with interest much to Sam's chagrin. She recognized she would not be getting support from Tucker in this matter and settled back down unhappily.

Etta had a grim expression now. She looked Sam over again and shook her head. "It's really not my place to tell. But if you're looking for people that have placed curses on people," her eyes bored into Sam's, "you should start with your mother."

_"What?"_ Sam gasped out in shock. Her already shaken world was shattering. She couldn't believe her ears. This woman couldn't be serious. Her cheery mother cursing someone? And, no, surely, this implication that she might have cursed her own sister was simply not true. Her mother wouldn't be capable of that, would she?

But things were starting to fall into place. She remembered what Jazz had told them the exorcists had said. That the cursed person seeks revenge and the person who did the cursing knows this. Her mother's overbearing personality, always worrying over Sam's well-being. Her mother never speaking much about the past, always emphasizing the importance of the future. Her mother's bright personality, always insisting on being optimistic, because, according to her, pessimism simply doesn't pan out.

Tucker was looking rather ill as well. The relief that his cousin wasn't responsible never came. Now, he wished it  _was_  Etta. "Sam," he leaned towards his friend with concern. "Sam? Did you  _ask_  your parents?"

Sam slowly shook her head in numb disbelief. "No," she replied, but her voice was so foreign even to herself. So tiny.

Etta gave them both pitying looks. "I'm sorry I said anything. It really wasn't my place."

"I'm glad you did," Sam tried to assure her, but, honestly, it was probably information she could have gone to her grave never knowing and been happy about it except for the fact it might be the cause for Danny's current crisis.

"Why don't you two stay here for the night?" Etta asked. "It's pouring outside."

_"What?"_ Tucker jumped up from the chair and peeked out the window. It  _was_  pouring. It had been so sunny earlier! Tucker glanced at Sam, who was still in too much shock to say much of anything. He hated that they would have to call their parents like this and leave Jazz and Danny alone for even longer, but, really, what choice did they have? It would probably give Sam a little time to collect her thoughts as well. He turned back to his cousin. "Sure. Thank you."

"Much obliged." She winked as she rose from the small table. "Let me show you around."

Tucker and Sam both followed her on the tour of the house. Tucker made sure to compliment the decorations he liked and was always trying to determine how it correlated to the Harry Potter movies. He was growing increasingly concerned over Sam, who had yet to utter another word, her face seemingly etched in permanent disbelief. Not that he could blame her. He had hated to think that some distant cousin he'd never met could have gotten Danny into this mess and now Etta had practically told her it was her own  _mother!_  He shuddered, remembering the horrified feeling he'd had when he'd believed for two seconds his parents had been cursing people. It was a crushing feeling, one he didn't want to experience again and was sorry that Sam was going through it.

Sam had never dreaded speaking to her parents so much in her life. Etta had finished the tour and left them to call their parents and watch TV while she napped and Amy read a, go figure, Harry Potter book. Or, at least, Amy attempted to read one. It was obvious after awhile that she simply stared at each page for a long moment or two, made an exclamation, and then flipped the page, not really seeing the words.

Sam pressed the phone hard against her ear, waiting for her mother or father to pick up. It was bright red, supposedly resembling a payphone that was in one of the Harry Potter movies. Sam was really hoping it would be her father that picked up on the other end, but her mother's voice greeted her. "Hello?"

"Mom?" Sam squeaked timidly, suddenly feeling afraid of her mother.

"Yes, honey? Is everything okay? Where are you? You're not using your cellphone..." Her mother's voice had an edge of panic to it that Sam thought finally made sense. She had always thought her mother was simply too paranoid, too overprotective, but if Sam's suspicions proved true then it would make sense. If anything, her mother wasn't paranoid enough.

"Uh, I'm sorry, Mom. But I'm spending the night with Tucker's cousin Etta in New Salem. We had to come out here for a school project and the weather is just too bad to travel in."

_"What?_ You didn't say you were going anywhere! You're supposed to be in school." Clearly, her mother was not happy and even sounded angry, though, Sam supposed, any normal parent would.

"I'm really sorry, Mom, but it was important." Sam took a deep breath and rushed on, "Uh, when I get back tomorrow I have to ask you a very important question."

There was a long silence. Her mother could tell by the tone of Sam's voice that it was a very serious matter, indeed. "About New Salem? And Etta?" Her voice was quiet and measured.

"Uh, yes." Silence even longer than the one prior stretched on until Sam cleared her throat, "Uh, Mom?"

"Okay." Her mother said simply, but it was in a strange voice that Sam had never heard her use. Almost defeated and very unhappy. "I'll see you tomorrow." There was a click, and, though Sam had yet to ask the  _big_  question of whether or not her mother had cursed someone, it already felt like she'd been told 'yes.'

Tucker's mother was all sorts of angry with her son and she made it well known over the phone. He was already grounded for two months. He was feeling rather depressed when his mother stopped in the middle of a long tirade. She heaved a sigh before asking, "Tucker, are you sure you don't know anything about Danny's disappearance?"

Tucker frowned. He had sensed that his mother was a bit more wound up than normal. "No, why?"

"Well, the Fentons filed a missing persons report."

"Wh-what?" Tucker stuttered.

"Yes, they did. Uh, some news reporters picked it up and it's been on the news. The police have wanted to talk to you and, Tucker, it already looked bad that I had no idea where you were, but now you're in  _another_ town?"

"I don't understand," Tucker said helplessly. What was she getting at exactly?

"Just- get back here tomorrow right away, okay? And try to remember everything you can about the last few days, like the last time you saw Danny. And his sister, too."

"They filed a missing person report on her, too?"

"Well, they talked to her the other day, but now they can't get in touch with her. She was the one who lied to them and said he'd be spending the night over here. But, honey, why do you seem more shocked they filed reports than that Danny is still missing and now his sister is, too?"

"What? I'm shocked, Mom. And scared! What if something happened to them?" Now, though, Tucker wasn't acting. Geeze, the police were looking for them now? What if something  _had_  happened to them?

"You should watch the news. They're not painting a pretty picture," she informed her son grimly.

"What do you mean?" Tucker asked, feeling a tad bit stupid. He had no clue what his mother was hinting at, but whatever it was, it certainly wasn't good, judging by her tone.

"Just watch the news. I love you, sweetie. Stay safe."

Tucker wandered through the house, looking for Sam. They had separated to make the calls to their parents. They were staying in guest rooms next to each other. Both thought the rooms felt a bit creepy. They resembled the rooms that the Hogwarts students slept in, complete with multiple beds and staircases, except these staircases didn't lead to anywhere. They just ended. It was freaky to be sleeping in a room with several other empty beds and random staircases that led to nowhere. Both had thought about bunking in the same room, but neither would admit they felt uneasy to the other.

He found her sitting on one of the beds in her room. He paused in the doorway, taking note of the mussed up sheets on various beds and the random comforters strewn about the floor. It looked as though someone had thrown a fit and systemically ripped apart each bed, save for the one his friend sat on, staring at her feet miserably. "Hey," he said softly. "Did a tornado hit while I was gone?"

Sam snorted and rolled her eyes. "Just me," she muttered.

Tucker sat at the end of her bed, concerned. "Are you okay?"

"She did it, Tuck. My  _own mother._ "

"You don't know that for sure."

"I do. I can just  _feel_ it. It was her."

They elapsed into silence, Tucker at a loss for words. He felt horrible for his friend. He had been so relieved that it hadn't been any of his relatives, but this wasn't fair to Sam, either! Why couldn't the person just have been related to Jazz and Danny?

"What'd your mom say?" Sam asked quietly.

"Oh!" Tucker exclaimed, jumping up. "We need to watch the news she said. And I'm grounded for two months."

"The news?"

Tucker nodded and the two found a quaint little room with a television. Fortunately, it didn't have three remotes to turn the thing on and was a more dated version. It flickered to life and he began surfing through the channels, trying to locate the news channel.

"You don't think Etta will mind?"

"Nah, she said for us to make ourselves at home," Tucker assured her with a shrug. They hadn't seen her again since she went to her room to sleep. Amy would go to bed whenever she was ready, she'd assured the two teens. "Here it is." Both stared at the TV, waiting for some breaking news. Right now, the reporters were just talking about the weather and debating some politics. After a few minutes, Tucker and Sam exchanged confused glances with each other. Why had Mrs. Foley insisted on them watching the news? After a couple minutes, they got their answer loud and clear. They were about to break to commercial, but one news anchor spoke up before the camera cut out.

"When we get back, we'll have an update on the missing Fenton children."

The remote clattered to the floor. Both friends were wide-eyed. "What?" Sam whispered. Tucker's jaw had dropped. Had they really heard that right? He knew his mother hadn't been lying to him, but actually seeing it for himself really drove home the trouble they were in.

"Mom said Mr. and Mrs. Fenton filed a missing persons report," he informed Sam in a nearly inaudible voice. Sam had dug through her purse and located her cellphone. She tried calling Jazz and when that failed, she sent texts, hoping to hear from the girl. She prayed Jazz was aware of this new development.

The news anchors were on the screen again. "We have Tiffany Snow reporting from Amity Park, the hometown of the two missing teenagers."

"Hey, Tiffany here," the news reporter beamed at the camera and tried to grin despite the bad news she offered. "It's a heartbreaking situation here in Amity Park. Supposedly, Danny and Jazz Fenton were just seen a few days ago, but they never showed up for school this week or showed up home, either. Jazz Fenton's car is missing along with multiple books of their parents, Jack and Maddie Fenton. Some personal items were taken, but not the usual amount someone would take if they were planning to run away from home for an extended period of time. The police are following up on various leads, though nothing has come from it yet. Back to you, Lance."

Sam and Tucker's eyes were growing wider by the moment. The camera cut to another news anchor. "Thanks, Tiffany," he confirmed with a frown as he patted down his hair. "Stranger still is the mysterious video uploaded to youtube just a few days ago. It shows Daniel Fenton viciously attacking a movie standee. I think we have that-" he looked over at someone off camera. "Can we roll that footage?"

Tucker and Sam stared at the TV in horror as that video of Danny attacking a movie standee was played on national TV. "I cannot believe this is happening," Tucker said aloud, more to himself than Sam. She nodded her head in agreement. As if playing it once wasn't bad enough, the station decided it would be good to play it  _twice_.

The camera showed Lance's face again. "According to witnesses, he just ran at the thing with no provacation. Prior to the incident, the theater security tapes show him acting like a normal teenager would."

He shook his head grimly as though it were a very sad day that such a thing had occurred. "The movie really wasn't  _that_  bad!" he exclaimed with a sheepish shake of his head and hint of a smile. "Well, moving on. These friends that he's shown with in the security tapes...they can't be found. We haven't been able to obtain any clear pictures of the two." He shook his head again. "Is this video partly responsible for the brother and sister's disappearance?"

"Well, if it wasn't before, it will be now!" Tucker blurted out. "Dang, hardly anyone had viewed that before." He shook his head miserably. "Now, it's going to be at, like, a million views!"

"Or five million," Sam pointed out grimly.

Lance now leaned towards the TV, steepling his fingers. "According to those who knew Jazz Fenton, she is a high achiever and some of her classmates stated the video probably would have embarrassed her as much as her younger brother. Are these disappearances the result of a family feud? "

"What exactly is he trying to say?" Sam demanded. "' _Family feud_ _?'"_

Lance concluded his speech, "If you have any information on either individual, please call the number at the bottom of the screen. We cannot release the names of Daniel's friends yet because of some technicalities mainly relating to age. Hopefully, we can find all four of these teenagers alive and well."

"Did he just imply that Jazz or Danny might have seriously hurt each other? Or that we were somehow involved?" Tucker finally found his voice after several long moments of shocked silence.

"Yeah, he did." Sam confirmed numbly.

-Ω-

Jazz was beside herself with worry. She had stupidly fallen asleep in one of the guest rooms. She had just been so tired and only meant to rest her eyes for a few minutes, but had actually fallen asleep for three hours! When she'd rushed over to check on Danny and give him some sleeping medication, her brother was no where to be found.  _This can't be happening_ , she thought desperately. She'd been up and down the hall, checking every nook and cranny. She'd been so frustrated when that bald, tattooed man had spotted her and informed her that her friend was still very much gone and had run downstairs, babbling about some sort of nonsense. Jazz had thanked him and was barreling down the stairs.

She found a couple empty rooms and checked them. She was about to look into another unlocked room, but one of her co-workers came racing towards her. "Jazz,  _what_  is going on?" she demanded. The woman, Leah, was older than Jazz, around her mid-thirties.

"What?" Jazz asked confused. Leah was worried about something and wasn't bothering to hide it.

"It's all over the news. You and your brother are missing? Are you okay? You're not kidnapped are you? Because we can get you some help!"

Jazz felt color drain from her face.  _"What?"_

"The police are looking for you and it said to call the number. But I haven't because I didn't know what was going on. Is this why you've been working? Are you a runaway or," Leah paused and shifted uncomfortably, "did you and your brother have a fight that  _ended badly_  over that youtube video?"

_"What_  youtube video and what are you talking about?"

Leah took a deep breath, preparing to ask the next question. "Jazz, you didn't kill your brother accidentally, did you?"

_**"What?**_ _Of course not!"_ Jazz spat out, insulted. The nerve! "What are you talking about? I'm fine, my brother's fine, and no one's been kidnapped."

"Look, if you've been brainwashed or something to believe that your captor is going to kill your parents, we really should get you to the police."

_"Nothing_  is wrong," Jazz insisted. Panic was making it's way through her. What if Leah or one of her other co-workers or even the guests called the police to inform them of Jazz and Danny's whereabouts? Plenty of people had seen Jazz and several had seen Danny. What would she do then? What if Danny went ghost or assaulted them or was determined completely insane and committed to an institution for life? If he started walking through walls would that lead to experimentation?  _I have to find him and we have to leave now!_ She pushed past Leah, peeking into another empty room. "I'm fine!" she told the stunned Leah. "Just- I'm fine, okay?"

Leah nodded mutely before turning to leave.  _She's going to call the police, she's going to call the_ _police, oh, please, no._ Jazz began pushing open random doors in a frantic search for her brother. She was practically hysterical by the time she located him dozing in an unoccupied room, completely oblivious to the world. She shook him awake. They had to leave now. "Danny, Danny! Wake up!" She shook harder and he shot up.

"Wh-what?" he stuttered in utter confusion. "Snow's everywhere," he lamented. "Can't see."

"Come on," Jazz pulled him up, paying no heed to anything he was mumbling about. "Follow me," she told him leading him to the parking lot. She wanted to get the books and clothes from the room, but feared she wouldn't have time. If what Leah said was true, then police might be speeding to the motel at this very moment. She herded Danny to her car.

"What's going on?" Danny muttered, growing more alert. "Who are you?"

"Just get in the car," she tried to push him gently into the passenger seat, but he didn't move. It stung that he had even asked, but there was no time for self-pity at the moment.

"Are you kidnapping me?"

_"No!"_ Jazz exclaimed, feeling bad about being a bit mean to her brother, but she simply didn't have the time to even try to explain things to him and she was positive that even if she had, he wouldn't really comprehend any of it. He was obviously far too gone and she was doing her best to fight back tears at his ridiculous questions. He silently slid into the car, while Jazz ran around to the driver's side. It was a good thing she always carried her keys on her, she thought. She revved up the car and they pulled away from the motel. She kept mind to go the speed limit, lest she get pulled over for speeding, of all things.

After they had gone a good several blocks, she pulled into a parking lot. "Wait, here," she told Danny, parking between two cars, trying her best to make sure there were no nearby security cameras. She got out and rushed around towards the back of the car, popping the trunk open. Good, her tools were still there. Her father had insisted that his princess be prepared for anything, buying her a pink toolbox for her trunk. She had thought it silly, but was now very grateful for it. She snatched up the screwdriver and glanced around, keeping a vigil eye for anyone who might spot her.

_This is so ridiculous,_  she thought to herself,  _can't believe I'm really stooping this low._ Still, something had to be done. She took the screwdriver to the license plate of the car next to hers and quickly got it off before doing the same to her car. She then switched the plates and screwed them both back on in record timing. She was breathing hard when she sat back behind the wheel, praying no one had noticed that. She had been pretty cautious, but one could never be too careful when it came to these sort of things. Still, there was no telling how long this little decoy would work, if at all. She figured it might buy them a little time at best.

Danny was staring at his sister in disbelief. "You stole this car?"

"Just-just, look, I'm not in the mood, okay?" She told him, instantly regretting it as her mind flashed back to a few days ago when he had almost jumped out of a moving vehicle because he thought he was seeing someone. "Look, just, why don't you take a nap, okay?"

"I keep trying, but I can never sleep," he mumbled despondently. Jazz bit her lip worriedly and a bit unnerved by what he said. He was  _always_  asleep lately. She'd seen to that.

"Just try again," she encouraged him, eyes darting around the area as she pulled out of the parking lot, still fearful someone might be running after her or a cop car might swing out of nowhere with sirens blaring. She was gripping the steering wheel so tight, her knuckles had turned white. To make matters worse, rain was pounding into the earth. The roads were so slippery and she was so tired, but she kept driving on, paying no mind to where they were going, just needing to get far away from Amity Park.


	12. Chapter 12

Conversations were scarce during the ride home. Tucker and Sam were back on the bus early the next morning, both anxious to get to Danny and Jazz and both dreading the confrontation Sam was bound to have with her mother. Tucker was well-rested, having managed to get a good night's sleep, but Sam clearly must have spent the majority of the night awake, judging by the bags under her eyes.

She barely looked at Tucker as they boarded the bus. He was worried and she couldn't find any words to reassure her friend. Spending the night staring at the ceiling, wishing she could ascend one of the staircases in her room and simply disappear probably hadn't been the most productive use of her time. Every time she thought on how to deal with the situation she hit a wall. How could she broach this subject with her mother? How could she tell Jazz? And when it was over and the smoke cleared, how could she admit to Danny that simply knowing her had sent him into this dizzying spiral of insanity? The weight of it was crushing her, making her shoulders hunch, and skewing her thoughts. Guilt, fear, and disbelief overpowered any hope she might have had of everything working out okay. She sighed heavily and leaned up against the window, wishing she were in another person's shoes right now.

Tucker twiddled with this fingers the whole ride and caught short snatches of sleep despite being well-rested. He simply didn't know how to offer any comfort to his obviously distraught friend. He still wasn't entirely sure what their next plan of action should be once they arrived at Amity Park; they could either go straight to the motel and check for any signs of Jazz or Danny or straight to Sam's and ask her mother about the curse. Sam still hadn't been able to reach Jazz and Tucker was growing steadily concerned. It was unusual for her not to answer their calls, especially these last few days. Then again, she was tired and maybe she had just forgotten to charge her phone? Tucker tried not to think of the other things that might have happened, namely being that the authorities had chased them down. If that were the case, he reasoned with himself, it would surely be on the news. After coming to that conclusion, he determined that in this situation no news was probably good news.

In the end, the two had a very brief discussion shortly before arriving back home. Sam hadn't sounded a thing like her usual self, unable to conceal her guilt and depression. Tucker had sounded much more serious than Sam could ever remember hearing him. They had decided their immediate action would be to approach Mrs. Manson about the curse, since this was the root cause of all their current problems. If she were responsible, which Sam seemed sure of, then maybe she could lift it and perhaps she was capable of memory wipes as well? Tucker hoped this was true, but Sam was dubious and warned him not to get his hopes too high.

Tucker insisted they eat lunch before heading to her house, having grown increasingly concerned over the amount of weight his friend had lost in such a short span of time. He knew she was stressed, but it still didn't mean it was okay to neglect daily habits one needed to survive. After having eaten, the pair found themselves standing before Sam's house, both staring at the door with uncertainty and fear. Tucker glanced over at his friend, feeling terrible at the trepidation she was radiating. "Maybe I should come in with you?" he offered. After a couple moments of consideration, she slowly shook her head.

"No, Tuck," she whispered in a soft but firm tone, "I just-let me go in and ask. It's going to be awkward enough without having anyone else there."

"But," Tucker tried to protest. He didn't like this at all, but Sam held up her hand to cut him off.

"Just trust me," she insisted. "I promise I will come out as soon as I get my answer. At least give me twenty minutes, then you can ring the doorbell or knock if you start to feel uncomfortable."

"I don't know if this is safe. I mean, what if she can curse  _you?"_

"She's my mother, Tucker. She's not going to."

"I bet her sister thought the same thing," Tucker muttered as he slumped against a step, showing his reluctant concession. Without another word, she determinedly strode into her house.

Her mother in the living room, done up in bright colors as usual, the TV flickering before her. Her father sat with her, also watching the news intently. Sam approached quietly. Neither seemed to hear her until she timidly spoke up, "Mom?" She hoped her voice would be stronger during the rest of this dreaded conversation.

Both heads snapped over to her, her mother pursing her lips before carefully regarding her daughter as if trying to judge how much Sam knew and how far she was going to go with it.

"You're back," her mother stated simply, her tone neutral, all the usual cheer in it completely gone.

"I hear you were in New Salem?" Mr. Manson asked, eyeing Sam critically. "What brought that visit about?"

"I-I went with Tucker, we thought his cousin knew something about..." she trailed off, uncomfortably. Maybe she shouldn't be cluing her father into any of this. "Uh, can Mom and I talk alone?"

Mr. Manson shook his head slowly. "No, I think we both already know what you're going to ask."

Sam was astonished. Her father was in on it, too? "You  _do?"_  she asked. Shocked overwhelmed her feelings of dread and she felt the guard she had carefully constructed to deal with her mother come crashing down around her. That shock could be so powerful hadn't occurred to same and later she would wonder if her parents had known its power and planned accordingly.

Her mother nodded. "Let her ask, Jeremy," she instructed her husband.

"Um, well," Sam stuttered hesitantly, trying to figure out the best way to ask the question she so desperately need to, yet had no desire to actually hear the answer. "Well, see we thought Tucker's cousin, Etta, might have cursed someone because, well, Danny has been acting strangely and we called some exorcists and they said..." she trailed off, belatedly realizing she had probably given away too much information if they  _hadn't_  cursed anyone.  _Now I sound crazy. Like some kind of occultist._

Jeremy's eyes narrowed. "That's why Daniel's missing then, is it? And his sister as well?"

She nodded mutely. Unnerved, she tried not to let her disappointment show through. It had been silly, but she had really hoped Etta had simply been misinformed. Her parents were quickly crushing that little last bit of hope she had been so stubbornly clinging to. Her mouth felt dry and she wasn't sure how much more she'd be able to say.

"What did Etta say?" Pamela prodded her.

"That if I was looking for people who'd cursed others I should start with  _you,"_  Sam admitted quietly. She had to work to get the words out of her and to keep her voice even.

Heavy silence hung in the air for several long moments before her mother spoke. "His name was Ezekial. He was in love with my sister, Carolyn."

"But-!" Sam started to protest, but her mother held up a hand.

"Please wait until I'm finished before you ask any questions." After a couple moments, Sam nodded and Mrs. Manson continued her story, "My sister didn't even notice him, but I did. He was in the grade between us so we all saw each other at school often. At first, it was just a game to me. Since he liked my sister so much, I wanted to see if I could make him like me that much, but at some point, I fell in love with him and really wanted that feeling returned. For a long time, I thought I had been successful. We dated, went to dances, we were a couple. I had been so happy. Even my sister was happy for us." She paused and took a deep, calming breath. Her next words were spoken harshly. "But I had been wrong. One day, I overheard him speaking with my sister. He was professing his love for her and saying how he had just been with me to get closer to her and try to win her over and how he would never stop loving her and would do anything for her and-" she cut herself off and took another breath, "You get the point. Instead of calling him out there, I simply stewed and steamed over it." She stopped again, her a far-off look in her eyes as she recounted the past.

Her husband leaned closer and gently squeezed her hand. "Pamela, do you want me to finish it for you?"

After a moment, she shook her head. "No, I'm okay," she assured him before going on, "I grew to hate him. He still acted like he was in love with me. Then I began to hate my sister. I blamed her for it all. I thought that if it weren't for her, then he would be all mine. I couldn't get over it and I couldn't let it go. I wanted to find a way to get back at her, to him only see me instead of only my sister." She looked down and her next words were heavy with regret, "But, I didn't realize what I was getting into until it was too late. I didn't mean to take it so far."

I had a friend who was really into occults so I went to them and asked for advice. She told me about curses and even showed me how to cast them. I was so shocked that anything like that could actually work. In all honesty, I had my doubts, but I still tried, anyway. I searched for a curse that would make someone appear unattractive to all those around them. I found one. It was a higher level curse, but I wasn't familiar with the levels at the time. I simply worked until I was able to cast it.

I had really only meant for her to become terribly unattractive to Ezekial. The curse did its job to well. It made her unattractive and undesirable. She began acting mad and spouting off nonsense to our classmates and friends. Then she started to chase the elementary students, claiming they were aliens in disguise. Things became serious when she began to literally start attacking our classmates with pencils and running after a teacher with a pair of scissors. She didn't remember who she was or who her family was. She always thought she was somewhere else and always insisted everyone was out to get her or was lying to her. It was like she was in her own world and no one could break through."

Mrs. Manson let out another sigh. "Of course, she really  _wasn't_  all that attractive anymore. I guess the curse worked on a more shallow level than I imagined because Ezekial spent all his time trying to fix her. It was pointless, though. Nothing he said could get through and some people even suspected he had caused it since she had always acted normal before he had become involved in our lives."

Sam was completely speechless. "So-wait...I-I- _you_  cursed your own sister over some guy she didn't even like?"

Jeremy had a comforting arm around his wife and shot his daughter a stern glare. "We all do things we're not proud of, Sam. I'm sure you can relate on some level." To say she was taken aback would be a gross understatement. Apparently, her father knew all about this ugly skeleton tucked away in her mother's closet. Anger suddenly colored her vision. He knew, but they had thought it best to keep it from her?

"So, what have _you_  done that I need to know about?" she snapped at her father, returning his glare with one that could melt ice.

"It is something I really regret. My jealousy and bitterness just consumed me. I was young and gullible. I would change it if I could go back." Her mother sounded truly sincere.

"But you  _can't_ , can you?" Sam cried, tears springing into her eyes. "Now  _my_  friend is having to suffer just because he knows  _me._  Just because some guy you were jealous over."

Pamela pursed her lips again, carefully considering her next words. "It wasn't just some guy, Sam. I truly felt love for him. It wasn't as if we didn't do anything. I had good reason to be so upset. I went too far, I admit. I shouldn't have involved my sister, but you always see clearer in hindsight. I only became aware of what all problems casting that curse could bring after the fact. My friend and I researched it and soon found out that we couldn't heal Carolyn. Then we learned that she could become a vengeful spirit after death. I knew she would. It had driven her mad and she screamed threats at me after our mother had her committed to an Institution." She paused before allowing a small smile. "Honestly, I'm a little relieved. I thought for sure she would use  _you_  for all of this."

Sam's eyes widened in horror and revulsion at the statement. "She  _is_ using me! She's getting back at you through my friend! Through  _Danny!_ " Despite her best efforts, she couldn't stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. Her voice was weak, "Can't you stop it?"

Pamela averted her eyes, shame heating her cheeks. "No, I can't."

Sam refused to belief it, not wanting to accept the finality of it all. "You  _can't_  or you  _wont?"_  she demanded. There had to be a way. There  _had_  to be. "How can I believe anything you say? Are you just going to place a curse on  _me_  when things don't go your way?"

All shame vanished from her mother's face and she jumped off the couch, voice rising with raw emotion. "How  _dare_  you say that to me!" Her words shook with insult and anger. "I am your  _mother._  You have no right to speak to me like this. You have  _no idea_  what it's like to- to-" she cut herself off, angry tears rolling down her cheeks.

"To  _what?_ " Sam loudly demanded, knowing she was crossing the line, but not caring in the least. "To  _what?_  To  _curse_ a  _sister?_ Of course I don't know, you never-" Sam stopped short, realization dawning on her. Her voice dropped to a whisper and she appeared to be talking more to herself. "That's why I don't have any siblings. You were afraid we might _curse_  each other." Sam shook her head before looking back to her parents, seeing them through new eyes. "I can't believe this!"

"I'm sorry, Samantha," her dad's face was full of sincerity and his voice held nothing but pity. "We never wanted any of this and your mother had no idea."

"Yes, she  _did!_ " Sam hollered, pointing an accusing finger at her mother. "She  _knew_  that her sister was coming and she  _already_ admitted she feared the revenge would be through  _me!_  What? You thought I should never know? Or if you ignored it, it would just  _go away?"_

"We were just doing what we thought _best!"_ Pamela tried to protest and her tone pleaded for understanding, but Sam wouldn't have any of it.

"Considering the things you've thought of in the past, clearly you don't have a good grasp on what's  _'best'_  for others," Sam angrily snapped. The cruel words silenced both parents and they simply stared at their daughter as she ranted on. "You don't have a clue, do you? You have no idea what you're doing. You're going to  _let_ my friend go insane now, just like you  _let_ your  _sister._  And you don't care! As long as  _you_  are okay!" Sam's voice dropped again, dangerously low in volume and full of accusation and hatred, "I  _know_ you _know_  a way to fix this, I can see it in your eyes,  _Mom,"_ she spat out the last word, a sneer twisting her face into an unpleasant sight.

With that, she spun on her heels and hurried to the door, only stopping for a brief moment when her mother called out after her.

"Sam, where are you going?"

Astounded, Sam slowly turned around to face her parents. Did they really think she was going to tell them  _anything_  after everything that had just been said? "I'm not staying with two people I no longer care about," she icily informed them. "I'm not staying here."

"You don't mean that." Her dad's voice was pleading.

Her voice was eerie now, even to her own ears. "Yes, I do. If either of you died tomorrow, I wouldn't be sad  _at all."_  Strange satisfaction filled her at her parents' hurt expressions. With nothing more to say, Sam spun on her heels and walked out the front door, making sure the door's slam would resound within the house's walls.

Tucker was standing on her doorsteps, reaching for the door when she had burst through it. He jumped back, shocked. " _What_  just happened?" he demanded before she even finished slamming the door.

"Did you hear any of that?" she asked, grabbing his arm and hurrying him down the street, worried her parents might take off after her. Rainclouds hung low in the sky again, about to burst open on the world at any moment. "We have to get to your house now. Now. I can't stay there."

"What?" Tucker asked, confused. "And all I heard was yelling and screaming. I couldn't make _anything_  out!"

"She did it. My _mom_  cursed her  _sister._  She told me herself!"

_"What?"_  Tucker screeched. Even though both Etta and Sam had been convinced, Tucker had still found himself believing it was going to be another dead end. Hearing that Sam's mother had actually admitted to it felt surreal. He had heard angry yells, but he hadn't been sure if Sam was just in trouble for sneaking away or if it was about the curse. Now, he knew. His mind finally caught up to what Sam was saying. She couldn't stay at her house and she was guiding them towards his at a very rapid pace. He hadn't even been aware that they had broken out into a full-fledged run.

"Are your parents following us?" he hollered, through gasping breaths, trying to keep pace with her. Sam was running as if she were on fire.

"I don't know and don't want to find out!" Neither broke their stride and they arrived at Tucker's block in record timing, only stopping once they reached his house. Both bent over with their hands on their knees, panting heavily, trying to catch their breath. They both looked around wildly, expecting to see Sam's parents pop around a corner either on foot or in the car. Never did Tucker think he would be so terrified of a friend's parents. It was like her parents had suddenly morphed into a warped version of the Boogeyman.

"Okay," Tucker said at length. "Let's go in. Uh, let me get my mom alone to ask if you can stay. I'm gonna tell her you got kicked out, okay?"

"Yeah, that sounds good," Sam gasped out. They both went inside and Sam found herself alone on the couch, watching more of the news story regarding Jazz and Danny play out while Tucker sought to speak with his mother privately in the kitchen. After making sure they were out of earshot and after assuring his mother that they hadn't been running away from someone who had attempted kidnapping, Tucker took another couple deep breaths unsure how to ask about having Sam over for the night.

"Is everything okay?" Mrs. Foley asked with concern after a couple moments of tense silence. She still wasn't completely convinced she was getting the whole truth from her son. "Sam seems really upset."

Tucker twisted his shirt nervously and adjusted his glasses. "She, uh, she was kicked out of her house, Mom."

"Oh, no. That's horrible." His mother did look truly sorry to hear the news, but it soon gave way to confusion. "Doesn't she have family around here? I think she would probably be better off with them right now."

Tucker shrugged, uncertain how to explain to his mom that she wanted to  _hide_  from her parents. "Mom, please. Can she stay here for a little bit?"

"What? Can she stay  _here_?" Mrs. Foley frowned as she thought about this. "Why would she want to stay  _here_ , Tucker? Is there something going on I should know I about between the two of you?"

It took Tucker a couple moments to figure out his mother's train of thought and when he did, he was completely aghast.  _"What?_  Of course not, Mom. It's  _Sam._  There's nothing going on with us. That's just-just... _no._ " Tucker shook his head to emphasize the point. He loved Sam as a friend, but the thought of her as anything else just didn't seem natural to him.

Mrs. Foley sighed heavily while drying her hands on a dish towel. She was tired and didn't know if she could sleep at night if she thought her son's friend was roaming the streets at night without a safe place to be. "Okay, for  _tonight_ , anyway. We'll see what happens tomorrow. But  _separate_  rooms, Tucker. I  _will_  be checking on you throughout the night as will your father and if either of us so much as _suspects_  you might have been in the same room at odd hours I swear, Tucker..."

_"Mom!_  Nothing is going to happen!" He exclaimed, embarrassment heating up his face. He was beyond thankful he had chosen to speak to his mother alone on this matter. He might have died from the embarrassment if Sam had been present. "I don't feel that way about Sam and she doesn't feel that way about me! Can we  _please_  stop talking about this now? It's weird!"

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but you are teenagers and you do have raging hormones. It's only natural for me to be suspicious."

"You have nothing to worry about, Mom," Tucker promised.

Sam and Tucker both watched a little more of the news, though Tucker suspected Sam was simply staring at the TV and seeing nothing as she looked absorbed in a world of her own. No new news had surfaced regarding Jazz and Danny's whereabouts. The authorities  _had_  gotten several tips that the two siblings had last been seen in the motel. Sam had still not been able to reach Jazz on her cellphone to both her and Tucker's dismay. Right now, they took it as good news that they hadn't been found. They had figured Jazz must have realized someone would be on their tail and tore out of the motel, forgetting her cellphone or the charger. Possibly both.

Mrs. Foley had shown Sam to her room and both teens were in their beds in separate rooms by ten. Tucker promptly fell to sleep, dreaming of a world where both his best friends were just fine. Sam wasn't crushed under guilt and depression, Danny was totally sane, and even Jazz was there, the dark circles no longer the prominent feature on her face. Sam remained awake, unable to look away from the ceiling, replaying the conversation between herself and her parents over and over. When she wasn't thinking of that she would think of where Danny and Jazz might be. Her mind honed in on the condition that he'd been in at the motel. How worse had he gotten since she'd last seen him? And-and... _and!_

Sam turned her head into her pillow to try to stifle the sobs as she bawled.  _I didn't even get to tell Jazz!_  Jazz had been right about the curse! She had been correct and Sam had been too stubborn to even ask her parents and now she couldn't even get in touch with Jazz in order to  _tell_  her.  _I didn't tell her,_  Sam thought miserably, her face buried in the pillow, overwhelmed with despair over the situation. What was Jazz going to do? Was she even safe with Danny? Was  _Danny_  safe?  _My aunt died in an institution,_  she thought glumly, recalling how she, Tucker, and Jazz had all brought up the matter of institutionalization in the past week. She cried more until she was dry heaving into the pillow unable to come to grips with the situation at hand.  _I didn't even get to tell her!_

"It is miserable, isn't it?" a deep male voice asked, empathetically.

Sam's head jerked away from her pillow and snapped into the direction of the voice so fast, she felt pain shoot through her neck. That was  _not_  Tucker or his father. There was a tall man near the window. He stayed hidden in the shadows, only his bright teal eyes shining through the dark. She couldn't make anything else out and didn't dare move closer, choosing to jump off the bed and back away instead, tightly hugging the pillow to her chest prepared to fling it if need be. She wanted to make it very clear she was on the defensive and not happy about it.

"Wh-who are you?" Sam stuttered through her shock.

"Ezekial. You were told about me earlier." He was sure and confident.

_"What?_ " Sam exclaimed, trying to press down her panic and not scream in frustration at how little control she had over her life. "What are you  _doing_ here?"

He didn't answer her question, but offered up an explanation on his sudden appearance instead. "You can see me now because you were told about me by your mother."

"She didn't tell me anything but your name and that you're the reason," Sam started as she realized just who she was staring at. Her voice was low, " _You're_  the reason my mother cursed my aunt."

He lowered his eyes and nodded slowly. "Yes, unfortunately, I do have that burden to carry. I am the reason."

"You're the reason Danny..."

"Now, let's not get carried away here.  _I_ didn't curse anyone."

Sam was at a loss for words, trying to sort everything out in her mind. "What- how- I don't und-" she stopped again, pursing her lips and frowning. "Wait- you're  _dead?"  
_

"Yes, I am. I've been tailing you and your friends for awhile once I realized Carolyn was using your own friend for her Reality Warp."

_"What?"_  Sam's jaw dropped and she couldn't stave off the waves of disbelief rolling over her. Maybe she had fallen asleep without realizing it. Every time this Ezekial opened his mouth, he said things that only half made sense. "That's impossible!" she cried out, feeling shivers go up her spine at the thought of him just hanging out without their knowledge. "I have to be dreaming," she muttered to herself.

"I'm afraid it is possible. And I'm afraid you're not dreaming."

"You're full of it," she scoffed. "We have advanced ghost detecting technology that picks up on any type of ectoplasmic matter that might be around," she recited some of stuff she'd remembered Tucker explaining about the Fentons' ghost equipment. Tucker had the ghost devices on him practically every second of the day since Danny's bizarre behavior had begun. Ezekial must just be trying to catch her off-guard and she wouldn't have any of it regardless if he was real or not.

"Technology can  _always_  be improved. You thought you had the ultimate in ghost detection technology? What would have happened if people had assumed the black-and-white TV was as good as it gets?" He folded his arms, a light smile on his lips, clearly bemused. His smile quickly faded, though, and his voice became much graver. "Like Carolyn, I'm also a special class of ghost. I'm not part of a dream."

"You're cursed, too?"

"No, I-" he looked away from her her, before hesitantly leaving the shadows. He was tall and light hair hung in his eyes. He sighed sadly. "After Carolyn went... _crazy_  and was institutionalized, I-I tried to keep visiting and tried to keep my spirits up," his voice dropped to a whisper, "I really did love her." He shook his head, looking at Sam again. "But she was crazy. She blamed me, said it was my fault. She said me and your mother would pay. That we would be sorry. I didn't know what to do. I felt awful over it all. It was true that I had taken advantage of her sister and made her so angry. I never realized that I had complicated things so much by taking advantage of Pamela. But I did realize it after Carolyn ranted and raved at me."

"What did you do?" Sam asked suspiciously. She had a feeling she knew where this was going, but was hoping to be wrong.

"I went on with it for about two years, but then I couldn't take it anymore. It was just too much. Every time I slept, I saw Carolyn's enraged face and Pamela's angry, betrayed one. Then I realized it was like Carolyn said. It  _was_  all my fault. I killed myself." It was said so simply with so much straightforwardness that Sam took a moment to make sure she had heard correctly before reacting.

"You  _committed suicide_?" She had suspected it, but it still didn't lessen the shock. The person that had driven such a wedge between her mother and aunt and been the reason for this curse had wound up committing suicide. Just like that. After leaving such disaster in his wake.

"Yes, I did. It's why I'm in a special class and can't be detected by those devices."

"And you are here now _because...?"_  
  
"Since both I and Carolyn are in special classes, but of a different kind, we cannot see each other. I've been following people I think she might be planning to use her power from the Curse on. I'm hoping I can see her through the person."

"Why?"

"So I can tell her I love her."

"That's...that's...  _it?"_ Even though Sam was aware of the complicated love affair that had led each of them to their current state of being, it simply wasn't what she had been expecting. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting him to say, but it wasn't that.  _  
_

"Haven't you ever loved someone? It's a strong emotion. I never told her I loved her while we were both still living."

Sam's eyes narrowed in incredulity. She had heard of "hopeless romantic" but this was pretty extreme. "I actually can't say I've ever felt love  _that_  strongly."

"You are still young," he brushed away her remark. With a level look, he added, "I'm also hoping to be able to assist her."

This piqued Sam's interest considerably. "Help her with what?"

"The Reality Warp." At Sam's blank stare, he expanded, "It's the power given to her from the Curse. She can channel her power into someone who is somehow connected to the person who placed the Curse on her. Using the power she can twist, or  _warp,_  their reality."

When said in such simple terms, Sam found herself amazed that her and Jazz combined had been incapable of figuring out what had been going through Danny's head. Everything fell into place for her. He had just given her all the pieces of the puzzle and even put it together for her in one fell swoop. Carolyn was connected to Danny through her. Sam was connected to her mother, the one who had cast the Curse. She shoved aside the guilt at ever having doubted Danny's sanity and focused in on Ezekial. He was very talkative and she was willing to bet he'd answer her next question. "What is the point of the Reality Warp? To drive someone insane as an act of revenge?"

"Oh, sometimes that is what it's used for," Ezekial readily agreed. "But not this time. If that were the case, she would have chosen you."

"What _is_  the case?" Sam asked, not liking the his tone of voice. He knew she wouldn't like the answer.

"If you use the Reality Warp right, you can use it to regain your chance at life." He grinned, waiting for the weight of his words to fully sink in. Once the shock registered on Sam's face, he went on, "It's extremely tricky, though, which is why most cursed ghosts simply wind up driving their target to insanity and sometimes even suicide. Six times out of ten, the resulting death is usually an accident because who doesn't want a second chance at life? It's hard to achieve because they have to torture the living soul into _allowing_ them to inhabit their body and overpower the living soul that originally inhabits the body." It took Sam couple moments to fully process the information.

_"What?"_  Sam exploded.  _"_ Are you saying she's going to use Danny's body to live another life?"

"Yes." He confirmed.

Sam felt herself starting to hyperventilate with anger. "So, basically, she just needs a body? Is that what you're telling me?"

"Correct. Like I said this is very hard to achieve. Not only the physical aspect, but the soul survival is hard as well. She has to make sure her soul will sync once in his body. Some other ghosts have gotten this far, but very few have actually survived on their own once they've finally taken over their target's body. Your friend, though, he is a very special case. I don't know how he is still alive and can transform in a ghost, but that he can makes him a perfect target. It would make it easier for Carolyn to adjust to his body as he is currently connected to the ghost world. It increases her chance of soul survival  _considerably_." There was a short pause, before he elaborated further, "Actually, it pretty much  _guarantees_ her soul surviving the sync."

Composure was not something she could really hold onto any longer. She had been so good at not giving him the pleasure of seeing traces of defeat in her eyes, but now they widened in horror as the realization hit her. Ezekial couldn't help but grin as he kept talking, clearly enjoying her reaction, "How lucky for her that  _you_  have such a wonderful friendship with the perfect target. I can't say much for _his_  luck, though." Ignoring her growing horror, he continued, " If it goes smoothly, her soul and his will fuse for a short while, essentially creating a new person. Her soul would be the stronger of the two, though, and would eventually snuff his out completely. Her soul would be the surviving one and it would live out another life while in his body." He summed up everything he'd just said with a simple sentence, "He will be a new person with a new soul."

"His soul-so their souls are basically going to fight for control over Danny's body?" Sam surmised. Grasping at any sort of hope, she blurted, "Won't her soul feel weird in a guy's body?" It was a silly thing to latch on to, but it was still something. In her mind, it would be the greatest obstacle.

"Souls are genderless."

Of course their souls wouldn't be concerned over something such as gender. Still, she wouldn't give up hope yet. "W-why? I mean, she's  _already_  lived her life! This isn't fair," Sam protested. Surely, even the dead could see how unfair this ploy was. Who had allowed such curses into existence?

"No, but it wasn't fair that her life was cruelly cut short, was it? And this is part of her revenge as well. You are the daughter of the one who gave her the Curse. Giving you grief will help ease the anger her soul has been burdened with."

_"No!_ This isn't right!" Sam cried, flinging her pillow at Ezekial. It flew straight through him and hit the shelf, making it shake violently. A picture tumbled off of it and hit the floor, the glass loudly shattering. Both Sam and Ezekial stared at the broken picture. Neither had anything else to say. Sam let out another angry sound before turning on her heels and racing out the door. She knew he could follow her no matter what, but she hoped this would make him give her some space.

Bounding down the stairs, she threw all caution to the wind unconcerned about waking Tucker or his parents. She was surprised they weren't already up with all the noise she had been making. Letting herself into the backyard, she plopped heavily on the wet steps, unable to stop the flood of tears. This Ezekial had no reason to lie to her. She drew her knees to her chest and buried her head in her arms, ignoring the cold rain that splattered on her skin and soaked the pajamas she had borrowed from Tucker's mother. Ezekial didn't bother her and she had no idea how long she sat out there, before she heard a tentative voice from behind her.

"Sam?" She made no response to Tucker's presence, but was grateful it wasn't Ezekial happily bearing more bad news. "Sam?" Tucker asked again concerned. He glanced at the sky and down at his friend, wondering how long she'd been out here. Loud noises had been coming from her room and, against his better judgment, he had peeked in silently praying his parents wouldn't see him. Alarmed at the empty room, he had scouted out the house in a frantic search for her. To find her out in this horrible weather was definitely surprising. When she still didn't respond, he reluctantly sat next to her, unsure how to comfort his obviously distressed friend. "Sam, we'll figure this out, okay? We'll get in touch with Jazz. Everything will work out." Not fully convinced himself, he forced himself to speak with confidence hoping to inspire some hope into Sam's demeanor.

Sam lifted her head and shook it. "No, no it's not," she said, turning to face him. Tucker felt his stomach drop a little at such a doleful expression. Rain and tears slid down her face. "No," she insisted. "Tucker, it's  _not._  She's going to steal his soul."

_"What?"_ Tucker was positive he must have misunderstood; she was starting to sound a little crazy.

"Ezekial came and told me that she's going to take over his soul. She's going to destroy the Danny that we know and become the new one."

_"What? Who?"_ He wasn't capable of doing much but imitating a fish with the way his mouth kept opening to say something, but promptly shut, too shocked to say much. It was hard to even blurt out one-word questions.  _  
_

"Ezekial, the guy who my Mom fell in love with, but he loved her sister and-and," Sam felt more tears coming as she tried to explain, well aware that Tucker was looking at her in panic and disbelief. Of course, she realized, he would think she was losing it. She had been too miserable to fully explain everything her mother had told her. She hadn't even told him Ezekial's name.

Tucker gaped at Sam, eyes doubling in size. His mind was reeling as he replayed all the conversations he'd had with Jazz and Sam over Danny's dilemma. He was pretty sure that it was  _not_  contagious, but he felt that Sam must have missed the memo.  _One step at a time,_ he told himself, trying to regain some control over the situation. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her towards him. "Sam, take deep breaths." It was the only thing that had sprang into his mind, but it must not have been the best advice he could have given. Next thing he knew Sam was slumped against him, crying unabashedly. Tucker awkwardly wrapped his arms around her, at a loss for words. "Sam, it'll turn out okay. You'll see." This time he didn't have to inject his words with fake confidence; he truly believed the end outcome would be good.

"I don't think it is, Tucker," Sam ground out between her sobs. Any other time, she'd be highly embarrassed to have a complete and total breakdown in front of her friend, but she was beyond caring. Horror at the situation overrode anything else she felt towards the situation, making it practically impossible to think clearly, much less formulate a counter-plan or find comfort in any of the assurances falling from Tucker's lips.

Her sudden flood of emotions overwhelmed Tucker. He had no words and simply squeezed her tightly hoping she could draw some strength from him or, at the very least, feel a little encouraged.

They sat like for a long while, rain pouring down around them. Tucker displayed patience Sam hadn't realized he was capable of. She finally gathered herself, slowly pushing herself away from him and inhaled and exhaled deep breaths for a couple minutes. He shot her a curious look, but remained silent, fearing anything he said might set her off again. He really couldn't blame her for being so emotional. To be honest, he would probably be freaking out if he'd just learned what she'd just learned about her parents.

"I'm okay," she assured him, between deep breaths. Tucker refrained from pointing out that he had serious doubts about that claim. He waited patiently for her to go on. Sam was able to read the unasked question in his eyes. "I'm good, just give me a moment and I'll explain everything." He nodded and waited in silence while Sam continued to regain her composure.

Finally, she took one last deep breath, before launching into a detailed explanation of everything that had been said between her parents and what all had just transpired in her guest room. She made he understood just who Ezekial was and what role he played in all of this. Tucker was rapt with attention, his face growing with horror as her story progressed on. After she finished, he simply stared ahead, shocked into silence for several long moments. He wasn't sure if he was more shocked at the whole story or the fact that up until a few hours ago, he and Sam had been on the same page but now she seemed to have jumped several pages ahead of him. His silence was beginning to unnerve Sam, prompting her to softly question if he was all right.

"I'm fine," Tucker insisted, his voice betraying how shaken he was. "I just- wow. _Wow."_  He wrapped his arms around himself and hugged tightly, not sure if he was shivering from the creepy explanation of Carolyn's powers or from being in the rain for so long. "It doesn't matter. Not matter what this Ezekial thinks she can do, she can't make us forget that she's trying to steal his soul. I mean,  _how_  can we forget something like  _that?"_  The idea was completely foreign to his mind and well beyond the line of ridiculous. He might could have believed it if this new character hadn't come out and told him Sam flat-out what the plans were. Still, that kind of unshakable confidence did ignite doubts deep within him.

More water showered Tucker when Sam adamantly shook her head, wet hair swinging wildly about her face. "Tucker, I believe she can do it. There wasn't any reason he had to lie to me and look what she's done so far in such a short amount of time." She paused, drawing her knees up to her chest and burying her face in them, muttering, "It doesn't really seem  _that_ impossible when you think about the past week." Wrapping her arms and her knees and squeezing tightly, she added, "This is my fault. If I had just listened to Jazz and asked my parents when she wanted us to, maybe it wouldn't have gotten this bad so fast. Maybe we could have had more time to figure things out and even assure Danny he wasn't crazy." It hurt deep down knowing that both Tucker and Jazz had summoned the courage to approach their parents about the topic so much earlier than her, while she remained so stubborn in her refusal to ask.

Tucker gently squeezed his friend's shoulder, sympathy flooding him again, wishing he could be do more than just lend an ear. "Don't think like that, Sam. Even if we had known, we might not have been able to do much."

Sam's head snapped up and she looked at Tucker through defeated and frustrated eyes. "Don't you  _get_  it? We could have done something. The reason everything it working so greatly for Carolyn is  _because_  Danny thinks he's losing it. We encouraged that feeling." Hunching back over into herself, she shrugged Tucker's hand off her shoulder.

His hand fell limply at his side and Tucker didn't say any more, both content to remain in such miserable silence. The rain came down harder, drenching them further and even though he wanted to get up and out of the downpour, Tucker found he was unable to move. Worry and shock over everything he'd just been told kept him rooted firmly to the porch step, no longer caring if his parents found them out there and grounded him. _What can we do?_  He wanted so badly to do something, but there seemed to be no glimmer of hope. The future looked too bleak to even attempt putting up a fight. Sam's words rang true. Danny was so far gone because he had honestly believed he was and, though it shamed him, Tucker had as well. He had seen the doubt in Sam's eyes and even in Jazz's.  _Jazz._ The thought made him shoot up, water rolling off him in mini streams, some flying onto the unsuspecting Sam.

Sam looked up at him curiously. "What?" There was no hope that he'd just developed some miraculous rescue plan, but genuine interest in his sudden movement.

"It's Jazz. I mean, she doesn't have any clue about any of this. How are we going to tell her? And, we just can't-maybe once she knows,  _she_  can figure something out! I mean, she read more of that stuff than both of us and she knows a little more about her parents' ghosts gadgets and what she doesn't know, I can-" he cut himself off, everything hitting him all at once. "Why are we just sitting here, moping?" He turned to go inside, ignoring the squishy sound his wet clothes made or how uncomfortably cold they felt against his skin. "We need to get to Danny's house.  _I_  can figure out what some of those gadgets are and I can try to work something out. Maybe we can even figure out a way to get in touch with Jazz."

Sam regarded him doubtfully. "That's a lot of stuff we're going to have to do, Tucker. Ezekial made it sound like there wasn't too much time left."

_"Who_  cares about what some dead guy has to say? He's dead, it's not like he's going to be able to do a whole lot more. He hasn't done anything to us this whole time he's been stalking us. Big deal. Let's just worry about how to save Danny from this Carolyn person."

"My aunt," Sam corrected under her breath. Tucker frowned, able to hear it even over the rain. Reaching down, he held out his hand and gave her the most determined look he could muster.

"Sam. Who cares if it's your aunt? Big deal. At least we know so let's try to fix it. You're not going to do Danny any good drowning yourself in guilt."

His harsh words and tone must have cracked her barrier, because a bit of hope sparkled in her eyes and she accepted his hand, pulling herself off the wet cement. "Right. You're right. Danny's the one we need to think about right now. I can save all this for later." Wet hair hung in her hairs and her clothes were soaked. She looked at Tucker intently. "You really think we can find something at Danny's house?"

"Yes, so let's go!" Their hands fell apart and they took off running, Tucker leading the way. They sped towards the Fentons on foot, feet pounding the wet pavement as if they were participating in a race. Every time she heard a dog bark, Sam felt herself shudder, wondering if it would alert anyone to their whereabouts. It was way past curfew for people their age and with all the news reports, the police had been crawling around the neighborhoods lately, in search of both Danny and Jazz. She couldn't count how many times she'd slipped and almost fallen into a puddle, regaining her balance just in time or Tucker catching her before being thrown completely off balance. On the other hand, she couldn't count how maybe times the same had happened to Tucker. They kept close to the back of the houses, remembering the layouts of the neighborhoods from when they were younger and played outside more often.

Tucker came to a skidding halt, mud and water coating his shoes and staining his socks. Droplets of rain clung to his glasses obstructing his vision. He held his arm out, signaling for Sam to stop. She also skidded, water and mud squishing together within her socks. It didn't bother either one of them, how wet, dirty, and cold they were. They were determined to do something-  _anything_  to try to help their friend. Peering over his arm, Sam searched the area wondering what had stopped him so suddenly. Sheets of rain made it hard to make out anything but instinctually she knew they were close to their destination. She was right; Danny's house could be seen from here if she squinted. Squinting more and ignoring the rain, she let her eyes roam the block, inspecting the surrounding area to the best of her ability. It was hard see anything at all in the rain. Finally, she spotted the squad car not too far off from the Fentons. There was another further down the block. Puzzled, she glanced at Tucker, curious as to how he could have ever spotted those especially with his visual impairment.

"Ha," he got out around quiet chuckle. "It was just my gut. I didn't actually seem them until just now, too. I remembered how big a deal Mom made over it. Some detective's supposed to be over at my place tomorrow for questioning."

"What? Really?" she asked, her tone hushed. This was news to her.

"Yeah, they're probably going to be at yours, too. Your parents just didn't get a chance to tell you, I bet."

"At least  _they_  actually know what's going on," she said disgustedly.

Tucker chose to say nothing, pursing his lips. "But that's all for tomorrow. Right now, we need to focus on getting into the house without being caught by the cops and not waking up Mr. and Mrs. Fenton. It would be so much easier if Jazz were with us."

"Right. What if the door's locked?"

"It's okay. I got a spare key."

_"What?"_

"Danny gave it to me awhile ago in case he got held up as Phantom and I needed to get into his house to use on of his parents devices that they have lying around the house," he patiently explained, still intently inspecting every angle of his friend's house, trying to determine the best route for them to take without getting noticed.

"Wow, that's convenient," Sam commented, a little shocked that anything could go right for them at all.

"I know, right? Talk about lucky. I just got it from him, like, two weeks ago."

"How do we get over there, though?"

"I think I found a way."

Tucker led the way very carefully, the two friends sticking very close to each other and moving with extreme care, keeping their eyes on the two squad cars that were patrolling the area. Tucker led them into a neighbor's backyard several houses down from Danny's. "Okay," he took a deep breath and turned to Sam once they were both safely inside the fence, hidden away from any prying eyes unless the occupants of the house felt the need to get up at his late hour in the night. With a glance at his watch, Tucker confirmed most of the neighbors should be in a deep slumber, the time creeping up on two in the morning. After carefully explaining the plan to Sam, they decided to try their luck at getting to Danny's house unnoticed. Fortunately, most of the houses were fenced and one of the squad cars only passed by the street in front of the Fentons house before going around the block opposite them. The other car squad car circled the block they were in. Tucker worried that they might not make it to cover on time each time they hopped a fence. They only had a short span of time each time the second squad car passed by. There was a way to see them from the east, west, north and south. Tucker worried more about the east and west openings because it would be easier to see them. They would have to be just in the right spot with bad timing to be spotted any other way. The rolling, ducking, and fence hopping was both mentally and physically exhausting.

Finally, they arrived one house away from Danny's. Tucker and Sam squeezed hands, trying to encourage each other to keep their cool. They were so close, they could practically feel their fingers around the Fentons' backdoor knob. "We're just going to run for it." Tucker said, waiting patiently for the patrol car to disappear from sight.  _"Now."_ It was a quiet, but urgent command and they both made a mad dash to Danny's backdoor. Sam could feel her heart pounding wildly in her chest and could swear she could hear Tucker's heart thumping wildly in the night over the sound of the rain. She practically leapt to the door, landing on shaky feet and grasping the doorknob, twisting it wildly. Locked. Spotting the other patrol car turning a corner, Tucker threw himself the last little bit of the way and rolled, coming to a stop at Sam's feet. She reached down, quickly helping him up, frantic to get into the house. They had both just managed to stay out of view, but it would feel much better to be  _in_  the house.

Tucker jammed the key into the hole and the door flew open, rain pooling onto the floor that conjoined with the door  _"Quietly."_ Sam pleaded, feeling her heart stop at the sound of the wind knocking the door into the wall. They both tumbled into the house and Tucker grabbed the door before it could slam into the wall again. He gently shut it and they both listened for any signs that they had woken up Mrs. and Mr. Fenton. After several tense moments, both relaxed a little, relief lighting their faces with smiles. "Looks like we're in the clear for now," Sam whispered. "To the basement?"

"Yes."

Wind howled outside and the rain continued to pour while Tucker searched through the Fentons' different gadgets, desperately trying to find anything that might help in any way. Sam had taken to reading their notes, wondering if by some miracle they actually were familiar with these other classes of ghosts. It was something she wasn't getting her hopes up about, judging by Jazz's reaction when they had learned of it. Jazz might not have much interest in this sort of thing, but she was definitely familiar with her parents' stuff simply because she lived with them.

Tucker was frantically pulling stuff apart and putting other things back together. He inspected several different pieces of technology intently, eyes narrowing each time he thought he might find something that would help in some way. Finally, Sam put down her notes and shot him a look. "Tucker, what exactly are we hoping to accomplish by doing this? It kind of feels like we're just rummaging through their stuff, but have no idea what we're looking for."

"I have an idea. You were worried about mind wiping and, also, we now know that these only detect the most common kind of ghost." He held up one of the ghost detectors that he'd been carrying around with him. "But they should be detecting anything with ectoplasm, so I'm trying to tweak it so it can pick up on  _any_  ghost signal it might be receiving even if it is an unfamiliar one being emitted to it. I think that's why it wasn't reading the ghost that's been messing with Danny or the ghost that said he'd been following us the past week; it's just these things have never read their kind of signals before and weren't designed to. So, I'm hoping," Tucker went on, explaining the more technical parts of the machines, trying to help Sam understand and trying to walk himself through some of it. Maybe he would somehow get inspired.

There had to be some way that it could read those ghosts. It was confusing because he had truly believed it would pick up on anything with ectoplasm, which meant Danny's parents must have designed these differently than he'd first thought. He felt like he was the verge of making some kind of breakthrough. He knew it had something to do with the signals of the other ghosts and the original design of the devices. Reworking the inner parts of the device and rewiring it to sense even the slightest bit of paranormal activity should set off the ghost alarm. Even the thermal devices didn't read anything. Were these designed differently, too? He could only imagine the relief that Danny would feel seeing that there  _was_ a ghost, unlike when they'd been in the movie theater's restroom.  _Still, I don't understand why it can't read them. There has to be a way. Nobody has said that part of the curse is to be undetected and what Ezekial said to Sam made it sound like if we improved what we had we would have been able to detect both him and Carolyn._

Sam was sure it'd been over an hour when she heard a loud grumbling sound. She looked at Tucker, appalled. "You're  _hungry?_  It's like, three in the morning! You should be good for another five hours at least!"

"Hey, when I'm racking my brain this much, I get hungry, okay?" Tucker shot back, fiddling more with the machinery he had in his hands. "It's not like I'm  _choosing_  to be hungry."

Sam was silent for a few moments before sighing. "Fine. What do you want?"

Tucker stopped for a second, shocked. "What? You're actually going to get me something to eat? Seriously?"

Folding her arms, Sam tried to keep her cool, reminding herself that they were intruders and not supposed to be in the house. "Yes. Okay? Don't act like I'm some awful friend who's never done anything for you. Is a sandwich okay?"

"Yeah, that would be great," Tucker agreed not able to hide the awe in his voice. "Are you sure you'll be okay up there alone? Make sure you don't pass by any window's that have the curtains opened."

"I'll be fine. The kitchen isn't that far away and I'll check the windows. Don't worry, I'll be quick." Sam was already making her way up the stairs, quiet as can be. At the top of the stairs, she glanced around checking for any windows that weren't covered. All nearby windows had their curtains drawn shut. Glancing at the backdoor, she cursed under her breath. She and Tucker had left a trail of water and mud when they'd entered.  _Great, I guess I'll need to clean that up._ Lifting her feet up, she checked to make sure she wasn't leaving a new trail.  _Guess I'm dry enough. Wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for all the mud._ She stood there for several seconds, uncertain what exactly to do. Wouldn't the Fentons notice a wet towel covered in mud in their laundry? Would Mr. Fenton notice that his trashcan was stuffed with dirty paper towels that hadn't been there before he went to bed? Not only that, but it would take forever to clean it with paper towels!  _I'll take my chances with the mop._ Sam thought and determinedly set about to cleaning up the area, checking periodically for any signs that someone other than Tucker might be awake and moving about the house.

She had been quick and she hoped thorough. Still, she'd completed the task in less than fifteen minutes, fearing being caught with a mop and bucket by Danny's parents. It would just look way too suspicious. Sparing her handiwork one last glance, she moved to the kitchen, checking the windows and sighing in relief when she found them covered. She didn't have to do too much searching in the kitchen, being familiar with where everything was. As she finished the sandwich, a presence made itself known behind her. She felt her hair stand on ends, but after a moment, calmed her nerves and turned around. This particular being wasn't too threatening.

"Ezekial. I see you're still stalking us."

"Yes." He casually leaned up against the fridge, mimicking an action he had probably done often in life. "I told you that things were moving smoothly for Carolyn. She's completely snowed your friend's mind in doubt, fear, and general insanity. He should be buried in it by now."

Sam's eyes widened and she nearly dropped the sandwich, which was now ready to eat. "So that's what he meant," she mumbled, "about snow."

"Yes, it's amazing how everything comes together and makes so much more sense after the fact, right?"

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I was just wondering why you felt so comfortable leaving your friend alone after everything I'd told you. Aren't you worried at all?"

"About?" Sam asked, grip tightening uncomfortably on the sandwich. She had been positive Ezekial wouldn't or couldn't attack them physically. Was he implying he'd done something to Tucker?

"I told you it would happen." He vanished into thin air and Sam heard steps approaching. She fought down panic, trying to come up with a decent excuse should it be one of the Fenton parents. It belatedly occurred to her that she and Tucker should have hashed out a plausible excuse way before this point in the game, but in their panic and desperation they had overlooked doing so.

Rounding the corner, Tucker gave her an odd look. "It took awhile to make a sandwich. I could have done made one  _and_  eaten it by now."

"Here." Sam held it out, too relieved that it was Tucker and not the Fentons to be insulted. "So, what'd you find out?"

Tucker shrugged. "Same stuff as always. The portal's still operating okay, so Danny should be all right."

Sam waited a couple seconds for the punch line before turning to her friend, incredulity etched into every feature of her face.  _"What?_  Who cares about all that right now? Did you find anything out about figuring out a way to show Danny he  _isn't_ crazy?"

Tucker eyed her critically, clearly confused by his friend's sincere over-the-top reaction. "What are you talking about, Sam? Danny just asked us to go in there and check out the portal while he was taking care of some baddies. Big deal. All's well in the ghost cave downstairs." He bit into the sandwich, observing her carefully. All color left Sam and she stared at him wide-eyed. "Sam? Are you okay? Hey, thanks for the sandwich." He waved it around. "It's good. Kinda still can't believe you were nice enough to make one for me." He checked his watch and groaned at the time displayed. "Man, it's so late. We should probably go home. Don't we have school tomorrow?"

Throat constricting, Sam felt like a giant chunk of ice had lodged itself in the pit of her stomach. Tears threatened to fall as she listened to Tucker yap on casually like they did this all the time. Even though he still acted like they were good friends, she couldn't fight the feeling she'd just lost another one of her best friends. He had been the one to dangle hope in front of her and now he was the one cruelly snatching it away in such a clueless manner.

"Sam? Hey? Anybody in there?" He loudly snapped his fingers in front of her eyes and she came to life, grabbing his hand and squeezing it, new panic swelling within her.

"Are you crazy? The Fentons might have heard you! Do you want them alerting the police? We shouldn't be in here!"

"The  _police?_  Are  _you_  crazy?"

"No, Tucker! Don't you remember anything? Danny and Jazz are both missing and the police have been trying to find them. It was even on the news! You just said earlier a detective was coming to question you tomorrow!"

Tucker yanked his hand away from her as if he'd been burned. "This is one elaborate prank, Sam. Give it up already. We should go home, anyway. I've checked what Danny wanted and everything's fine." He stuck one hand in his pocket before groaning. "Great. I left something downstairs. I'll be right back and then we'll head out." Casually he headed back to the stairs, all the tension from when he had first entered the Fentons' having completely vanished.

Sam made to protest but stopped short when Ezekial became visible again. Tucker didn't register anything new so she assumed he still wasn't privy to the new ghost. She hung behind, watching as Tucker disappeared from the kitchen. Ezekial shook his head at her. "It's pointless. He's forgotten."

"He still talked like he knew Danny!"

"I never said he was going to forget  _Danny._ Remember? He's just going to forget what happened and that Danny's  _soul_  was ever in any need of rescuing. Don't you see? It's the perfect way for a ghost to come back to the world of the living. His personality might change some, but you'll have no idea why and it's not like its unheard of for humans to have a change in personality throughout their lives. Such wonderful power."

"That-that's," Sam stuttered, despair swallowing her words.  _"This_  is insane."

"It is pretty crazy," the ghost readily agreed. "I'm going to go see if the sister has forgotten her memories and if Carolyn can see me with her new human eyes." He started to leave before glancing back at the shell-shocked girl standing in the kitchen. "You should check the news reports. I'm sure you won't find anything about your friends being missing. Even the squad cars probably have some other reason they think they are in this neighborhood by now."

Sam's eyes just widened more, unable to grasp everything happening. It was happening too fast. What had Tucker been on the verge of fixing? She could tell he'd been so close and now this! What if Jazz really was just as confused as Tucker? What if Danny...? If Jazz was as confused as Tucker, then they were in serious trouble.  _Danny!  
_


	13. Chapter 13

Jazz wasn't sure what had happened or when it had happened. She was positive it had been a combination of her sleep deprivation and the awful weather. Somehow, the car had wound up skidding off the road and flipping into a ditch, next to the woods that lined each side of the highway. Panicking, she had grabbed Danny and taken off running away from the vehicle and anybody who might stop to help or any police that might be trying to find them. The woods weren't exactly comforting, but they were able to easily get lost amongst them and, hopefully, anyone that came out after them would suffer the same fate. How they hadn't sustained any serious injuries was beyond her. They were definitely scraped up and cut up, but neither one had broken anything or been knocked unconscious.

Surprisingly, Danny hadn't protested much and went along with all of it, weary eyes regarding her carefully. It hadn't taken her long to figure out that he suspected he was in some other world and just playing a part, prepared to be ripped out of it at any moment. Earlier, she was sure she would have felt guilt at the appreciation that he was just going along; she was even manipulating the situation to her advantage, not bothering to correct some of the things he said or trying to convince him of anything. As far as she was concerned the only thing that truly mattered was them getting clear of the area and, hopefully, finding a warm place to stay. He could think she was whoever he wanted to. She just didn't have the energy to care at the moment.

Rain continued to pour down on them all night as they trudged through the woods, Danny not saying much unless he felt it was necessary. Not that Jazz asked much of him. In his current state, he was of little help to her. She was grateful he was conscious and she hadn't administered any medicine lately because she had doubts about being able to lug him through these dizzying woods. With only the thought of seeking shelter and staying hidden, Jazz pushed herself and her brother as far as possible, not even thinking to take a break. Danny finally came to a halt behind her, hands clutching his knees and gasping for breath. "Hey, can-can we rest for a few moments? Is that okay?"

Glancing around, Jazz confirmed that no one was out and about yet. She hadn't heard any shouts from people potentially searching the area. Thankfully, she had gotten off on a stretch of a highway that wasn't too active. Still, it would be pretty easy to figure out who's car it was once someone reported it or whenever a cop came up to it. She sighed, leaning up against a tree and sliding to the ground. "Yes. Let's rest for just a little bit. I think we've covered quite a bit of ground. We should be good for ten minutes or so."

She desperately wished she had thought to take some blankets with her so they wouldn't be sitting in mud and water.  _No use worrying over it now. We can't be too much further from another exit. Maybe we can find some public restrooms and clean up enough to pass as decent. I wonder where we can sleep. If we could just find a place out of the rain that's inconspicuous and unsuspicious we'd be okay. I guess we could find a store that's open 24 hours. Still, won't the employees get suspicious if we're there all night? I do have some money for a motel. I guess we'll have to take the chance that they haven't been paying attention to the news. There should still only be one or two on the late night shift, and if we stay all day and then duck out at night, we should only be seen by a few of the employees instead of several during the day._

Beyond the treeline, the dark clouds made it nearly impossible to figure out what time it was. Jazz wished she would've snapped a watch on before fleeing the old motel. Considering it was no longer completely pitch black, she figured they had to be in the early morning hours. Danny had yet to make a peep since plopping down in the mud and rain as if it were perfectly normal. He sat cross-legged and stared down at the mud that was caking around his ankles, his bangs veiling his eyes. Jazz tucked some of her own wet hair behind her ears and sighed. "Danny?"

Slowly he lifted his head, pushed his bangs out of the way, and looked straight into her eyes. Jazz started at the clarity at which he studied her. His eyes were completely clear, not clouded with doubt or worry. "What next?" he asked, his voice not wavering, frightened, or confused in the least.

Jazz grabbed a hold of the tree and used it to steady herself as she stood up, frowning in confusion the entire time. That Danny was just suddenly better out the blue was too much to hope for. She bit her lip, thinking things through carefully before saying anything. Not wanting to scare or alarm him, she hesitantly questioned him. "Danny, are you  _feeling_ okay?" It was odd to ask him that when he looked better than he had in several days. Had it really gotten so bad that him looking okay made her wonder if he actually  _was_  okay? She supposed it had gotten that bad and patiently waited for an answer.

He stood up and shrugged, not bothered by the question. "Sure. Why? Are  _you_  feeling okay?"

Jazz tried to hide her shock at her brother's casual brush-off. "Uh, yeah. Are you-are you  _sure?_ I mean, do you remember who I am?"

Danny didn't try to hide any shock and shot his sister an incredulous look. "Wow,  _Jazz._  For being the smart one, you sure are acting kind of stupid. Have Mom and Dad finally driven you crazy?"

"Ha," Jazz attempted to laugh, but it was short and flat, no cheer in it at all.  _"Crazy?_  Uhm..." Life sure was turning itself around on her suddenly.

A cocked head, twinkling eyes, and amused laughter told Jazz that her brother clearly thought _she_  was the one a few fries short of a happy meal. "Lighten up, Jazz. It was just a joke. I don't actually that you  _have_  lost your mind. So, are we going to find a phone or what? We're not going to get too far just sitting around in the mud. I really think I remember seeing an exit this way." He faced in the direction they'd been going in as if he'd been leading all along.

"Wh-what? A phone?  _Why...?"_ Jazz felt herself hopelessly confused and even flustered by this sudden turnabout in Danny's demeanor and tone. He exuded confidence. To think he hadn't been sure what her name was an hour ago was astounding.

He glanced behind him, brows knitting at her stunned expression. "You know. Because our car is in a ditch. We need to call someone to tow it and we should let Mom and Dad know what happened."

_"Wh-what?_  Danny, we haven't seen Mom and Dad in days, the police are trying to find us, and you-you- _you-!"_ she cut herself off, unsure how to go about explaining everything that had taken place.

"What are you talking about, Jazz? The police? Why would they be after us?"

"We went missing for days!"

"No, I'm pretty sure we were at Grandma's house for the week."

**_"What?"_ **

Danny gave her a strange look, eyes narrowing and holding her gaze steadily even through the rain. "Are you sure  _you're_ okay?"

_"Yes!_ You're the one who was-was-" Jazz stuttered, making a frantic gestures with her hands. "We- of course." She stopped short, realization hitting her. "I swapped license plates with another car."

Danny didn't get upset but just shot his sister a look of confusion mixed with pity. "Jazz, why would you do something like that? Are you sure you haven't always had that license plate?"

Jazz slowly shook her head, trying to not lose her temper or start yelling. The frustration was unbearable and the way he kept looking at her as if  _she_  were the crazy one here! "No,  _I_  did that."

"Why would you do something like that?"

_"Because!_  To help!"

"How is that helping?"

"I-I just-" Jazz had trouble forming words and found herself quickly out of breath, unable to come to terms with what was happening. Finally she stared hard at the mud, searching her mind desperately for an answer as to what had happened. "Is this what happens?" she muttered to herself, still looking down. "Have I gotten sucked into one of your warped worlds?" she asked, lifting her head and looking Danny in the eye.

"Wow. Jazz. I don't know what's gotten into you, but you really need to get a grip."

_"I_ need to get a grip?  _Me?"_

"Uh, yeah." Danny nodded, shooting his sister another odd look. "Come on, let's find a phone and make some calls. You'll see. I'm telling the truth. Are you sure you're not the one everyone's been so worried about? I mean, you have been pretty stressed out lately over finals that are coming up. Even Tucker and Sam were saying you looked like a basket case. You really should get more sleep." He looked her straight in the eyes, his own clear with sincerity. Jazz tiredly searched them, trying to sort her feelings out and trying to recover from the shock she felt rocking her body.

_Something just isn't right. He sounds like my brother in voice and looks like my brother. But there's just something._ Maybe it was that his expression and words rang a little  _too_  sincere, like he was desperate to convince her of it. Resigned, she finally sighed and gave him a long look. "Danny, is that  _really_ you?" Not that she expected him to come out and tell her that he wasn't, but she hoped if something fishy was going on her brother would find some kind of way to send a signal of some sort.

"Jazz,  _I'm_ really starting to worry about you now." There was no signal she could detect and his expression settled into one she was familiar with. "Let's go," he said, turning to lead the way. No more protests fell from her lips and she dazedly followed him out of the woods. There had been another exit not too far off and they could see a couple gas stations and fast food restaurants. He grinned at her. "Let's go to the gas station. I'm sure they have a phone and we can get some food and hopefully clean up a little," he said, tugging uncomfortably at his wet shirt. It was too much to hope for a shower, but they could at least wash their faces and hands. She wondered if they'd even be let into the place at all. At any rate, there should be at least a phone outside or one employee willing to lend them one.

_Wait. Is this really okay? What if we call and everything's just the way it's been? I'm **positive**  I haven't seen Mom or Dad in a few days and that I stole that license plate..._but Danny was so certain and unconcerned about it all that it ignited all kind of doubt within her. Was it even possible that this whole time it had been  _her_ who had needed the help?  _No, that's impossible! I'm just not thinking straight because I haven't had a good night's sleep in who knows how long. Tucker and Sam even helped me. I'm sure once I ask them...but Danny acted like he'd just recently spoken to them and they were worried about me. What is going on?_

Jazz forced herself to stop mulling over the situation and simply put one foot in front of the other, listening to Danny go on about the past week they'd just spent at their grandmother's house.  _But we were never there,_ Jazz thought desperately.  _Were we?_

They were greeted with friendliness and concern by the employees currently on shift at the gas station. They were allowed to clean up as much as they could in the bathrooms and even offered some food by the kinder employee who had been so alarmed to see a couple teenagers in such a ragged state. They sat at a table in the break room to eat. Danny happily dug into his meal while Jazz carefully chewed each piece, suddenly not having much of an appetite.

After eating, Danny asked about using a phone and gladly accepted a cell phone from one of the employees. Jazz listened intently to his side of the conversation with their parents, waiting to hear shouting or crying on the other end of the phone, but it never came. The conversation would have seemed overly normal if its central focus hadn't been about their time with their grandmother. Jazz could feel herself breaking into a cold sweat and had to fight down the urge to hyperventilate. After several minutes, Danny handed the phone over to her. "Mom would like to speak with you." He did a double take, noticing his sister's trembling hands. "Hey, are you going to be all right?"

"Y-yeah." Jazz forced herself to nod and winced at how weak her voice sounded. She pressed the phone against her ear, not sure if she should prepare herself for a scolding on going missing for so long or a conversation about a week she didn't remember. "Mom?"

"Hey, sweetie. Are you okay? Danny said you two had been in a nasty accident, but weren't injured. He said you're still pretty shaken up about it." He had? She didn't remember hearing that. "It's a shame that the day you have leave Grandma's house, the weather gets so nasty. It was really sweet of you and Danny to go up there and visit her while she was sick. I know how important your studies are, but at least you only missed a couple days of school." Jazz was sure she had missed a week. Hadn't she? "I called her earlier today and she was in much higher spirits than she'd been before you two went up to see her. She said the doctor also said she's doing much better. I'm really proud of you. I just wish you hadn't run into so much trouble on your way back, but me and your father will come pick you up, so just sit tight, okay?" Her mother waited for an answer. "Honey?" There was another short pause. "Jazz? Hello?"

Jazz simply stared straight ahead, right through Danny, the other customers, right at the wall, not seeing anything. Everything blurred together and she felt herself having trouble breathing. Danny leaned towards her, worry contorting his features. "Hey, Jazz, are you okay?  _Jazz?"_ He leaned further over the table, and pried the phone out of her shaking hands, eyes full of worry the entire time. "Jazz, are you okay?" Finally, he pressed the phone back to his own ear. "Hey, Mom. Yeah, I don't know what's wrong. I think she's still in shock from the wreck. We did just skid and even flipped once, it was pretty scary. I'm still a little shaken, too. Okay, see you then." He flipped the phone shut, propped one elbow up on the table, and gave his sister a long, concerned look.

"What?" Jazz finally asked after several tense minutes of silence.

Danny ran a hand through his hair and gave her another look. "You don't look so well."

Jazz's first instinct was to immediately protest and insist she was fine, but the fight in her quickly evaporated and she slouched forward, her defeated sigh filling the quietness of the break room. "I don't feel so well, either," she admitted, putting her arms on the table and burying her face in them. "I think I might just sleep for a little bit."

Danny picked up his bottle of soda he had yet to finish and paused with it halfway to his mouth, giving his sister another strange look before shrugging and chugging down the rest of his drink. "Okay. I'm gonna look at the stuff they have for sale. I kind of want some candy and maybe that nice dude will buy me something." Normally, Jazz would feel inclined to scold Danny not to take advantage of someone.  _Actually, he usually doesn't anyway,_ she thought but said nothing. It was too tiresome to try to think things through. Maybe they could just go home and she could sleep and forget the past week had ever happened. That seemed like an awfully tempting idea.

Time must have flown by or they weren't as far as way as Jazz had suspected because she felt herself being shaken awake much sooner than she would have liked. "Hey, Jazz! Mom and Dad are here. C'mon!" It was apparent that Danny was anxious to leave and get home to take a shower and warm up. Rain was still falling heavily to the earth, no signs of letting up.

Her parents bombarded her with questions, worried about her earlier behavior on the phone. Still trying to stave off her disbelief, Jazz desperately tried to follow the conversation while trying to figure out what had happened. Then all her questions were answered when her mother asked such a simple question.

"So, how was your grandmother's cooking?"

Before she could even think about it, Jazz found herself answering, "It was great! Friday night she made some jambalaya and last night we had grilled salmon." Memories of the past week sprang up in her mind and the past week was all too clear to her. She had been at her grandmother's with Danny. They had skidded off the road and flipped into a ditch on the way back. It happened suddenly and she still couldn't shake her unease, but she couldn't place why she was so uneasy. What had she been so upset and worried about?

"Let's go home, Jazz." Danny was at her side and practically beaming as if sensing the confusion at her sudden comfort with the situation.

-Ω-

Sam studied the TV before her with intensity. It was just now approaching the seven in the morning, but there was no signs of the sun yet. Spirals of dark clouds were everywhere, the sky unpleasantly gloomy. She had been extremely flustered when she had parted ways with Tucker. He had no memory of inviting her to stay at his place or that she was having trouble with her parents. He had looked at like she was some kind of alien when she had talked about going back to his house. It hurt to remember it; she felt completely and utterly alone. She had no idea how to get in touch with Jazz, Tucker didn't remember anything was wrong, and who knew what was wrong with Danny by now? Remembering Ezekial's advice to watch the news, she spent the majority of her morning trying to take cover from the rain and waiting for a shop to open that she knew had a TV in it. She refused to go back to her own house where she knew her parents would be waiting.

More ice formed within her stomach when she heard the news. There were no reports on any missing persons in the area.  _Nothing._ How could so many people just forget something like that? All the anchors and reporters didn't know what they had reported on just yesterday? Weren't there scripts or recorded newscasts floating around? All the viewers didn't remember? Did that mean if she went back to the motel, none of the employees would remember that she had frequented the place just earlier in the week? No matter how unbelievable it was, no matter how many times she tried to refuse to believe that any of this was possible, she saw Tucker giving her strange looks and acting like nothing was wrong. He had been the epitome of concerned and frantic just several hours earlier, but now he was acting like it was just another day and nothing major had recently happened.

The ice seemed to shift and she found it hard to breathe, staring at the news reporter who was talking about something that didn't interest her, though she suspected it probably should. Images of Tucker's honestly confused face, her mother's confession, Ezekial's words, and Danny's strange mumblings all tumbled around in her mind, a whirlwind of the past week or so trying to drown her. It was then she really grasped just how powerful of an enemy they were dealing with. This Carolyn could wipe all their memories of ever having been an enemy and how do you defeat someone you can't remember? Especially when they are safe inside a good friend and even fooling you into believing that they  _are_  your friend? It was unbelievable to think that her mother had been capable of unknowingly granting that kind of power to someone.

"Yeah, it's a bit scary, isn't it? You're just now realizing how hopeless it is?"

Sam didn't move and only whispered an acknowledgment, already full of fear at the news she was sure he brought with him. "Ezekial."

"I'm back. Looks like your two friends were in a car accident, but they both are uninjured. And his sister is just as clueless as your other friend now. Thought you might want to know."

"Jazz doesn't remember now, either?"

"That's what I just said."

"Oh. I see." Sam still didn't look at him choosing to continue to stare at the moving pictures on the television despite her disinterest. Extreme shock and disbelief made it hard for her to move or even get upset. Ezekial folded his arms, disappointed he hadn't gotten a more hysterical reaction out of her. After a couple moments, she asked, "And you? Have you spoken to her?"

"To Carolyn? No, not yet. I was at the gas station with them, but she didn't seem to notice me. I'm going to give it a little more time, but..." he trailed off, suddenly unsure of himself.

"But?" Sam prompted. She didn't want to admit it, but she felt a flash of hope shoot through her at his inconfidence.

"Once everyone's memories have been wiped of the past several days and replaced, that should mean her spirit is in attune with the world and even overcame his. So, by all accounts, if she can see me she should be able to by then."

"So, once everyone forgets everything, you'll find out if you can see her and profess your love?" Sam was shocked that her question wasn't full of sarcasm. Her voice was dry and lifeless, not showing any real interest or disinterest in the matter. Even her demeanor oozed of apathy.

"Yes..."

Sam frowned, still not quite following. "So, what are you nervous about?"

"As far as I can tell, everyone that needed to forget has forgotten and she still hasn't been able to see or even sense me in the slightest."

"I'm still here and I haven't forgotten anything."

"That isn't what concerns me."

"I don't understand."

There as a long silence, Ezekial deep in thought and Sam not turning away from the television, though her eyes slid over to him briefly a couple time, glimpsing him in her peripheral vision. Apparently, he had no real desire to explain anything to her and departed with, "We'll see how it turns out. I'll find you and let you know one way or the other."

_Why?_ Sam thought, but he had already disappeared into thin air. Finally gathering enough strength to walk away from the TV, she left the store and looked up at the dark sky, rain running down her face.  _I don't know what to do now._


	14. Chapter 14

Time marched on, slowly for some, quicker for others. Nearly two weeks had passed and Tucker still showed no sign of any memories, much to Sam's never ending disappointment. She had started to avoid him as he was always around Danny lately. She was pretty sure it was "new Danny's" way of preventing her from triggering anything in Tucker.

Tucker wasn't really sure why some people were acting all uptight about everything, but he didn't really care to find out, either. School was going on like it usually did and he was just wishing he could hurry up and graduate before things got stranger. He shut his locker door, only to find Danny standing on the other side of it. "Hey, man, you could say something next time!" Danny shrugged, an impish grin plastered on his face. Raising an eyebrow, Tucker followed his line of sight to find what he was looking at. "Try not to look so happy to see a bunch of football players coming our way," he warned his friend.

"Hey, Dork Fenton!" One of them called out, whipping a cell phone out of his pocket, "We saw you went kind of crazy at the theater!"

"Talk about a spaz!" Another of the group called out and they all burst into laughter.

None of it fazed Danny in the least. His grin didn't waver and his eyes reflected true amusement as if they were the ones being made fun of. "You should be careful," he cockily warned them, "never know when I might mistake one of you for a movie standee. After all, people like you aren't good for much else other than standing around trying to get people to go watch a game."

Tucker prepared himself for the beat down he was positive both he and Danny were about to receive, but relief flooded him when Dash narrowed his eyes at them as if able to perceive something was horribly amiss. "Whatever, loser. Clearly, that crash must have knocked a few screws loose and we know you didn't have many to start out with." His posse gave nods of agreement and the group turned away.

"What was that, Danny?!" Tucker cried.

His friend shrugged nonchalantly. "A cell phone with video. Big deal. Like I'm the first person on YouTube to do something stupid?"

"Well, no, but usually you care what people at school, you know,  _think, say_."

" _Well,_ that was the old Danny and this is the new Danny and new Danny doesn't really give a damn, can't you tell?"

"Dude, I don't know what's going on but lately you seem like a totally different person," Tucker muttered with a shake of his head. He had to admit, though, it did make him respect his friend more than he had in the past, though it was a little harder to relate to him.

"If only you understood the weight of that comment," Sam said with a sad sigh as she approached the two. Danny narrowed his eyes at her and gave a tight smile.

"If only you did," he echoed her, though his comment was aimed at her and not Tucker. Their mutual friend glanced between the two, unease bubbling up in him as it usually did recently when he was around them together. Separately, he felt just fine but there was some horrible tension now between the two. He had thought maybe they had engaged in sexual intercourse, but when questioned both gave vehement negatives and acted as if they hadn't had a crush on each other forever.

"I really feel like I'm missing out on something here," he voiced aloud for what felt like the billionth time.

"You are," they both replied in unison. Danny's grin widened and Sam's frown deepened before she balled her fists and marched away, feeling thoroughly frustrated.

At lunch time, the cafeteria echoed with teens' laughter and some arguing. The joint smells of pizza and spaghetti filled the room along with the usual smell associated with school cafeterias. Sam sat alone at a table much to Tucker's confusion and annoyance. She had eaten in solitude for almost two weeks now, refusing to be near Danny for any longer than necessary. To make matters worse, she was speaking to an invisible person like a certified nutcase. She caught him staring across the cafeteria and he promptly looked away, embarrassed.

Sam shook her head and muttered, "Ugh, he just doesn't get it at all. No one does."

Ezekial, invisible to everyone in the room but her had to agree, "Yeah, that's true."

Narrowing her eyes, Sam pushed some spaghetti around on her plate. Ezekial had reappeared two days ago. Sam had spent her first week of this "new Danny" as he called himself crying her eyes out and essentially grieving for the death of "old Danny." A lot of people thought this was just simply part of the YouTube thing and the wreck with his sister, but she knew exactly what he was referring to and it was eerie and a little creepy that he knew she was the only one who completely one hundred percent understood his words. She and new Danny seemed to hate each other with undying passion and both knew why and she wondered if it was as frustrating for him or her or whoever it was as it was for her. Ezekial had shown up seemingly just as depressed and let down as she felt. He didn't have to tell her the reason, she knew. It was so obvious. Not one good thing had come out of this for anyone except maybe Carolyn or Carolyn's soul. Sam had trouble following all the technicalities of it. The thing inhabiting Danny's body wasn't technically Danny anymore but it technically wasn't  _not_ Danny either. And it wasn't Carolyn either but it was. It was some weird combination of the two souls somehow, but ultimately it was Carolyn's conscious that had taken total control and even some of her memories remained. At least those were the basics she got from Ezekial and she suspected that he didn't even understand it in its totality, either. All she knew was that her Danny was basically just a whisper and rapidly becoming nothing more.

Ezekial hadn't wanted to speak about what he had discovered while he'd been away and Sam was not inclined to push him. Still, she did wonder why he tailed her around the past couple days or what would become of him. She had asked before and he had just shrugged and implied he hadn't decided yet as if he still had control of the situation but didn't know what to do about it. She wondered if that meant he would just vanish at some point.

One thing was for sure, "new Danny" was sure bent on becoming a bulldog and vicious in his remarks to others and he could retaliate against the popular kids like no one's business. He had practically become popular, one of those popular anti-popular kids who tried out drugs and could be generally found going on about the ills of society. Tucker was barely hanging onto his spot as best friend, but Sam suspected "new Danny" would keep him around as it would look awfully weird to drop his closest friend out of the blue, but she knew there were probably plans for them to drift apart. At some point, Tucker was going to really start questioning things. New Danny was rather fearless and the only person that he ever didn't look completely at ease with or ready to attack was her. Still, Sam wondered how much longer her memories of Old Danny or, as she called him, Real Danny would stay intact.

"Is it going to go on like this forever?" Sam asked her new friend.

Ezekial pursed his lips and shook his head slowly. "No, I don't think it will. But, ultimately that will be up to you."

Sam's eyes snapped up and he leveled her with a look that can only be described as a mix of empathy and pity. "What do you mean?"

"I will tell you later. Not at your school. I will see you at the end of the day." And with that promise, he vanished leaving Sam to stare at her spaghetti in puzzlement but deep within her she felt a small spark of hope and some color brightened the world that had become so stark and gray to her eyes.

Jazz wasn't sure how she had wound up being the one person to need so much therapy. It really was a mystery how so many of her thoughts and memories were all muddled and confused. Her parents and Danny seemed to have so many different versions of events she thought she went through. One minute, she would have everything perfectly in order and it totally matched up to those stories then she would have some weird flash or whisper of a memory flutter into her mind. She would see Danny sick and in a rundown hotel, she would have a vision of him trying to jump out of her car, or some other really horrible, disturbing memory. At least, she was pretty sure they were memories. The therapist and her family insisted they were nightmares.

She sat in the room with her therapist and listened again to what he was saying. She believed in therapy and was a strong advocate for it, but she just couldn't bring herself to believe that she had dreamt these events into existence. She didn't believe therapy would solve this particular problem. She still went, though, as she felt it would be extremely hypocritical to reject something she was a strong advocate for and it did help her deal with the trauma of being in a car wreck and having her memories all fuzzy to a certain degree. It had at least helped her sharpen her focus on the present and live in the present for the most part, though she found herself returning to that wreck and mulling over the details that simply made no sense. Where had that car even come from and what had that funky thing been about the license plates again? Had someone in her family really purchased a stolen car by mistake as people insisted in the stories she'd been told. That's how life felt lately, like she was getting story after story and while everyone believed the story they told, that was all it amounted to: a story, not anything remotely true. Something in the back of her mind told her the truth was much more of a story and she might want to just accept things as they were but some force kept driving her to question everything that had happened to her since that car slid into the ditch on that rainy day. There was one person she wanted to speak to as she had recently had a memory flash with that particular person being in the center of it. After her session with the therapist ended, Jazz made off on a mad mission to find this person.

Sam was surprised that Jazz was able to find her later that evening. Sam had taken up residence in the old hotel room that Danny and Jazz had stayed in. She refused to live in the same house with her parents, the only other people who were very much well aware of Danny's situation, but not to new Danny's knowledge as far as she knew. Her parents actually seemed to think a short separation would do everyone some good and were willing to give her money to find a place to stay, though she refused to say where. The amount of money they gave her was meant for an upscale hotel so she had enough money to stay at his place for at least a couple of months if not more. She had already taken to cleaning some afternoons, so she could save and stay longer because she had no plans to ever to live at home again.

"How did you find me?" she asked from the chair was lounging in, reading a book. Jazz had simply walked right in like she used to and hadn't been surprised to see Sam already in the room.

"Asked around," Jazz promptly replied before shaking her head. "No, that's a lie. The truth is, I had some weird memory of this place and I kind of felt like you might be here. It took me awhile to get here, though. Kind of wanted more time to talk."

Sam's ears perked at this and leaned forward with much interest "You had a weird memory of this place?"

"Yeah, with you and Danny. Like he was freaking out at you and you were terrified. I had to calm him down. He wasn't himself, it was like he'd gone off the deep end," Jazz explained before averting her eyes and looking puzzled. "But I keep having these weird memories pop up," she muttered more to herself. Her recollection of everything sounded so mechanical and uncertain.

Sam put her book down, concerned. "How long have these memories been popping up? Is this why you haven't been in school often? I heard that you were having some kind of trouble from the wreck." She left out that she had been told it was physical and not mental trouble.

"Yes," Jazz nodded promptly. "Since the wreck my memories have been all weird and I keep having strange dreams. Danny and my parents keep remembering different things and the therapist keeps saying I have PTSD but I really think these things happened. That's what I wanted to ask you." Jazz looked at her with wide eyes. "Do you think I'm crazy?"

"No, of course not!" Sam exclaimed, happiness and relief lighting up all her features. She jumped off her chair excitedly, "Finally! Someone else remembers!"

"What?"

"That is a memory! I have that memory, too. You talked Danny down from attacking me. It was in this very room!"

Jazz stared at Sam with wide eyes. "What? Are you serious?"

Sam bobbed her head up and down with so much ecstasy that her hair practically flew around her face instead of just framing it. "Yeah! No one else believe me, either. But it happened. I had no idea you were having memories of it or I would have found you. I thought you still thought you had been at your grandma's!"

Jazz slowly nodded her head and then shook it, not certain where she had been or what to believe. "I mean, I thought I  _had_ been there, then I thought I was  _here_ , then I saw them both in my memories and…." She trailed off and spread out her hands and shrugged, signaling she had no idea where she had been or how to put the pieces together to see the puzzle. It felt like she had the pieces but not the picture to guide her, she didn't know how they were supposed to fit. "Help?"

"Yes! I can help!"

"Finally! Can I come back tomorrow?"

Sam looked a little crestfallen and remembered how Jazz had expressed earlier she wished she'd had more time to talk. "You have to be somewhere."

With a sigh, Jazz nodded. "Yes, I can't be out long. I had to sneak out and have to get back before dinner. Apparently, all of this is really upsetting to Danny and then my parents get upset and they all think I'm a total nutcase. They keep tabs on me and get really upset if I'm not where I'm supposed to be."

Sam's eyes narrowed at the mention of Danny. Of course, Sam should have put two and two together and realized how dangerous it be for Jazz to stay in such close proximity to what she now considered a toxin. Jazz looked like she could fall apart any minute and didn't show up much to school. Sam was told by Tucker that she had needed physical therapy but now she saw Danny must have told that lie to him and, in turn, he unwittingly told it to her all the while Jazz was essentially being put through a very similar experience to what her younger brother had just been put through. What twisted tragedy, she thought. "We can definitely get together tomorrow."

"Do you mind coming over to my house? I had to basically sneak out. They are keeping constant tabs on me as the therapist implied my delusions could lead to suicide, so they like to know where I am all the time. If you come over, it'll just make my life easier."

Dread filled Sam as she wasn't sure she wanted to enter the "lion's den" but it might be nice to unsettle new Danny so greatly and it wasn't as if the two didn't see each other every day and it was certainly better than her parents house. She also didn't want to risk waiting too long to have this conversation with Jazz. She was sure they could figure out something once she got there. "Yes, I'll stop over tomorrow. Promise."

"Great, see you then!"

Sam watched her leave and smiled, feeling more hope color her world. Today had been good. She nearly jumped a foot when Ezekial greeted her about an hour or so later. She dropped her book, she had been so absorbed in it. He picked it up with a sheepish grin.

"Didn't mean to scare you."

"That's okay." Sam assured him, trying to calm her racing heart. She hadn't quite readjusted to how he just popped up and disappeared with little to no warning.

"See you had company."

"Yes, she remembers some. Or is having flashbacks. I'm going to see her tomorrow to talk more about it. Do you want to come? Maybe I can tell her about you and she can also see you."

Ezekial looked grim. "No, I don't think that'll be necessary."

"What? Me telling her about you or me going over there."

"Me getting to know her, so you telling her about me."

Sam waited for more but when he didn't go on, she pressed the matter. "So, you said earlier it was ultimately up to me if I wanted to change things. What did you mean?"

Ezekial mimicked a living human exhaling through their nose as one does when considering presenting another person with bad news. "Let me tell you." As Ezekial explained, Sam felt the color rapidly disappearing from her world again until it was pitch black.


	15. Chapter 15

 

 

 

Yawns and tired greetings filled the hotel lobby as several guests shuffled through, peeking in to see if the continental breakfast was worth eating. One lone figure sat quietly at a table, drawing a few concerned glances from others in the area. Lazy swirls formed in a tan, ceramic bowl full of cereal as Sam stared blankly down at her breakfast, mindlessly twirling the spoon in soggy Cheerios. Dark bags hung beneath her eyes, aging her face much more than her fourteen years. Sleep hadn't come to her even after she had yelled at Ezekial to leave. The words that had left his lips were cruel and tore her apart from the inside out.

Nightmares, more vivid that any she'd ever experienced had visited her all night. When one ended, another picked up where it left off and it was always worse than the last. Sam wondered if her night had been what Danny had been put through the last couple weeks of his normal existence before Carolyn. Ezekial's words had played themselves over and over to the point she'd shut her eyes and swear they were written on her eyelids. They had taken root and disturbed her a great deal as she found herself pondering many issues that were usually left to monks or priests.

For the first time, she had wondered what exactly was the worth of a soul, Danny's in particular. She pushed her chair away from the table, it scraping loudly against the floor causing a couple nearby to stop with food halfway to their mouths and shoot her a questioning look. Sam ignored the couple and resolutely walked out of the hotel, her mind on autopilot as she made her way slowly to school. An average person might mistake her for a zombie, except for the turmoil that clouded her eyes as it could only be the expression of a human in anguish.

Tucker listened as his homeroom teacher spoke in dull tones about an upcoming test. First period was always so boring. The teacher never tried anything new, he could have at least tried to inflect some tone into his voice. Second period was a different story altogether. He and Sam didn't share homeroom and he hadn't seen her in the halls before the bell rang, so the sight of her actually frightened him. His heart sped up and he felt his entire being clench with concern at the sight of his friend; she looked as though she drop dead any moment with the entire class an audience. "Sam," he whispered to her as she passed him to find her desk. She ignored him at first and he called out louder to her, "Sam!" She halted and turned slowly as though she wasn't quite sure if she'd actually heard her name being called. Tucker felt chills run down him. It was like he'd been transported into some horror movie and she was the possessed being that everyone feared. She certainly looked the part.

"Hey, Tuck," she greeted flatly. "What's up?"

"What's up with you? Are you okay? You look like death." At this Sam let loose a round of chilling laughter and Tucker felt actual fear grip his insides. When her empty laughter died off, Tucker spoke up again, "Okay, and now I officially have the creeps. What's going on?"

Sam shook her head, an odd smile plastered on her face. "Nothing, Tucker. Absolutely nothing." She paused and then sighed, looking at her friend with a mix of pity and envy. "Why do you get to be the oblivious one?" she asked longingly. "I guess oblivion really is bliss."

"What is that supposed to mean?!" Tucker cried, indignant.

Sam shrugged and then walked to her desk without another word, leaving a dumbfounded Tucker in her wake.

**-Ω-**

At lunch, Tucker sat across from Danny. "Have you seen Sam today? She is acting freaky as all get out and it's not even Friday the 13th. Might as well be though." Tucker exaggerated a shake of his body to indicate she had given him chills.

Danny looked up from his food and shrugged. "Hasn't she been acting weird for awhile now? Maybe she's depressed." He didn't look too keen to stay on the topic. He started to say something else, unrelated but Tucker cut him off.

"Don't you even care, man? It's not like you to not be at least a  _little_  concerned when she acts weird. And this is the weirdest I've ever seen her."

"What do you want me to do, Tucker? Demand she see a therapist? I can't control how she acts or feels or thinks so why worry about it?"

"That is true but it's just so….. unlike you."

Another shrug and Danny stuffed some food in his mouth before replying through a mouthful of chewed food, "Maybe I just matured and accepted reality."

"Maybe." Tucker agreed. "Still, I can't shake this bad feeling I have."

Danny didn't seem to want to hear any more of this talk and changed the subject to a tv show they both liked and Tucker didn't bring Sam up again. He did decide he'd try to talk to her later, without Danny.

**-Ω-**

Sam's phone made a little beep, signifying she'd received a text and she glanced at it.  _Jazz._

_Are you still coming over after school?_

Sam glanced at the clock in the class she was in. Time had left her. She had been putting off texting Jazz. It was the third or fourth time that the other girl had sent a text. Clearly, Jazz really was confused, it seemed Jazz already wasn't sure if they'd even made plans. Sam still hadn't made up her mind about what to do with the information Ezekial had given her. She would have to decide to since time was slipping away from her like water through fingers. Time wasn't being her friend today. Ultimately, she had to do what Ezekial had suggested or go to Jazz with the information he'd given her. Doing both wasn't an option. It was her second to last class. The clock was the only thing she paid any attention to during that period, fixated on how slowly the second hand moved. One more class afterwards and school was out. The bell rang, more loudly than she could ever recall. She started to make her way to her final class. It took extra time as she had started towards the wrong class before realizing her mistake and correcting it. There was another clock waiting in the final class to loom over her, teasing her with time. The rest of the class and the teacher fell away and it was just her and her desk and that clock with some background noise. Fifteen minutes before the final bell, she stealthily pulled out her phone so the teacher wouldn't interrupt her and simply replied "yes" to Jazz. Her phone vibrated a few moments later with a reply.

_Great! Looking forward to seeing you!_

**-Ω-**

The final bell rang. It was time to go get ready to meet Jazz. She had to go get something first, she'd left it at the hotel. Ezekial had provided her with it if she had decided to take his advice. She wanted to make sure this was what she really wanted to, so more walking to clear her head and focus would help. At least she hoped all this extra walking would help. She didn't want to get there too fast, but she also didn't want to lose what little resolve she had.

Sam could feel Ezekial's voice resounding through her mind. There was this want, almost this  _need_ to want to discard everything he'd said and call him a liar and she truly wanted to believe it, but she knew, she knew what he had said was true. If she wanted to undo this, the option he had given her was the only one. It wasn't one she liked but it was one she was willing to try. Sam wanted to consult Tucker and Jazz and see what they thought, but she couldn't. They would understand; they had to! She knew if they were in her position, they would do the same thing. But would she want them to, she asked herself over and over again. And, yes, of course!  _That_  was worth Danny's soul! It wasn't just life they were talking about here, but an actual soul. Her thoughts bounced around, not all coherent. She had reached her hotel and retrieved what she needed. With the weight of the world on her shoulders, she headed towards Jazz.

Her heart beat rapidly against her chest and her breath was irregular. Ezekial's voice rang throughout her mind as she strengthened her resolve to see this out to the very end. She picked up her pace a little, suddenly wanting to get this over with.

_Sam, you have to shock Danny into recovering his body. At this point, that is the only way to shake Carolyn out. But the window for that is rapidly closing as Carolyn is making the body more her own soul's and less his. There is not much time. You have to do something that will shock his system, it will shock Carolyn, too, and it should bring his soul to the forefront enough so that it stays._

She had asked why his soul would suddenly stay and not burrow itself again in submission to Carolyn's soul and the answer had been chilling and made her stomach churn.

_He'll fight to see how things turn out. He won't want to go back to not knowing the answer to this question. He'll want to see it through to the end and possibly attempt to rectify it._

There would be no rectifying this and Ezekial had sadly nodded his head in agreement.  _True. That's why his soul would stay. Kind of like a life mission, I guess you could say._

She had asked who and he had stared at her with so much pity and regret, that Sam had felt her throat close up and had found it hard to breathe.

_It has to be that shocking, Sam. It can't be less shocking. Are you sure you can even consider it?_

I can consider it, she had responded. She had demanded he be less vague and explain in more detail.

_Then I will, but you are aware how much of a social sacrifice this is, right? Your life will change drastically. For good._

She had asked for more and she heard more. When it had become too much, she had yelled at for him to go away so she could try to think through things. She stopped walking for a minute and shot a text to Jazz, letting her know she was almost there. Jazz responded quickly and told her to just walk in and meet her in the basement. The door was unlocked. Sam's heart quickened, she could feel it practically exploding against her chest. She reached her hand in her bag and felt coldness meet her fingertips. Ezekial had found it and said if she was gonna go through with this, it might as well be stolen. This had to be fate. It was as if Jazz was unintentionally making things creepier. She was hanging out in the basement? It was going to be like a true horror story unfolding down there. Sam had hoped she wouldn't have to actually go inside, but she resigned herself to her fate.

She closed her eyes, time speeding before them. She wished she could just make everything stop or, better yet, rewind time to about a couple months ago or so, that would be fantastic. There was no changing time, not that she was aware of. Life was very sad. That was the conclusion she had come to. She had to get past that and keep on trying. She wished she could discuss this with Jazz first, but that would take a lot away, not to mention her nerve. She had to operate under the assumption Jazz would do the same; they both loved Danny, after all. It might be different kinds of love and Sam was beginning to realize just how much she truly cared for her friend beyond the normal means, but now wasn't the time to dwell on those feelings. After this, she had her doubts those feelings could even be returned and there was no way she could fault Danny.

She stopped at Danny's door, taking a deep breath. Slowly, she pushed the door opened, calling out a greeting so as not to shock anybody. This was it. She wouldn't be able to run right down the street. Jazz's mom's voice rang out from the kitchen and Jazz's filled the stairwell encouraging her to join her downstairs. All of Sam's senses heightened. She was able to hear footsteps upstairs, Maddie was cutting vegetables in the kitchen, someone was watching TV in the living room. She guessed Danny was upstairs and his dad was probably the person watching TV.

Sam didn't respond to either voice and slowly made her way to the basement stairs. With every step, she felt was falling further and further into some dream as if she was just watching her body move and viewing the events from another's eyes instead of her own. She saw the steps and took another deep breath. No going back. She had resolved to see this through and she would. She made her way down and Jazz must have heard her because she greeted her and started rattling off things about her parents and her day, how excited she was to see Sam. Her back was turned, she was near the portal.

Sam thought maybe she should find out why Jazz was near the portal, but nixed it. It was now or never. She reached into her bag and readied herself for when her friend would turn around. Jazz sensed something was wrong as Sam had been dead silent, not responding to any questions or making any comments. Jazz whirled around and her eyes widened for a brief second before a series of terrible noises echoed through the basement. A horrible, strangled sound came out of her mouth and Jazz felt her body falling forward towards the pavement, Sam's remorseful face the last thing to fill her vision before she could do nothing but focus on the pain exploding behind her eyes and throughout her body.


	16. Chapter 16

Time stilled for Sam. She knew she would never forget this moment. Jazz lying on the cold basement floor of her own house, blood spilling out from a gunshot wound. The gun shook in Sam's hands. Her aim was better than she would have guessed. Ezekial had gifted her the gun if she chose this way. The other option was to go to Jazz with this information but then they would not have been able to carry out the plan; Sam desperately wished she could have asked Jazz before shooting her, possibly killing her, and she sure as hell had to be going into shock. In her heart of hearts she knew she would expect Jazz to do the same for her.

Sam felt herself coming back to reality at the shouts coming from the upper levels of the house and the racket on the stairs. Maddie was making her way down.

"What is going on-" her question was cut off into a strangled scream when she saw her daughter on the floor in front of Sam. "Jazzy! Jazmine! Jack, call the police, we need an ambulance!" She vaulted down the rest of the steps and didn't even seem to see Sam- she rushed right by her and knelt by her daughter, putting anxious hands on her. "Jazz, honey, can you hear me?"

Sam still just stood there staring at the mother and daughter. It truly was like she had become invisible; she briefly wondered if she had until she heard a voice behind her.

"S-Sam...?"

Sam did not turn around at Danny's voice; she wasn't sure if it was his voice or Carolyn's or what. She wasn't sure of anything except that she had definitely just shot someone she cared for very much and was essentially watching the lifeblood pour out of said person, frozen to the spot, hoping someone would take the gun from her and shoot her. There was one thing that was clear as day in Danny's voice- shock. Whether it was Real Danny or New Danny, whichever Danny was helluva shocked, which had been the point after all.

_"Sam?"_ This time Danny sounded a whole new kind of shocked, a horrified shock. Sam realized he must have seen the gun she was still holding and put two and two together. "Mom, she's got a gun!" he warned his mother, horrified. Jazz was moaning and Maddie's head snapped up.

"Jack! Get down here!" Maddie screamed. She looked up at Sam, noticing her for the first time. "Samantha, what the hell are you doing with a gun?!"

Sam made no response. She remembered Ezekial's words; she had to shock Danny into coming forward. Her grip tightened on the gun a little as she debated what to do next. Should she go any further? Ezekial had said she could probably get by with just shooting Jazz as long as Danny knew it was her who had fired the gun. She figured she would test him. She started raising the gun again, a new target in mind. The air in the room instantly stiffened. Jack was on the stairs, screaming something into the phone but Sam didn't hear him. He'd stopped, spotting her raising a gun at his wife. A sharp intake of air was heard behind her.

"Stop," it was muttered so lowly and Sam could have sworn it was the Real Danny. Then again with more force, "Stop!" Shaking her head, Sam closed her eyes for a brief minute trying to block out the pleas from Maddie to put the gun down.

_"STOP!"_ Danny screamed and Sam suddenly found herself being knocked to the floor. The gun went off anyway, no target in range and Sam had no idea if it hit anyone. All she could hear was Maddie screaming and Jack coming the rest of the way down. Maddie's screams had turned into rather shocked, violent gasps of "what the hell?!"

Sam felt herself being lifted up off the floor by a furious Danny. His eyes were green, she dimly realized through the haze in her mind. "Get out," he spat between clenched teeth, "Get out. Before I kill you." It was not an empty threat Sam immediately realized. She nodded numbly unsure if any of this had worked. She walked past a stunned Jack and made her way out of the basement and into the hall of the Fentons' house. She was surprised at how easy it was to just walk out of the front door and into the neighborhood after shooting somebody. No neighbors were even out, had no one else heard all the screams and two gunshots? Sirens screamed and lights flashed in the distance so she knew that the medics would get here and hopefully save Jazz's life. And maybe Maddie's, too, Sam was fairly certain she had shot Maddie, too but couldn't say she was absolutely sure as she had only heard it.

Did it work? That was the only concern Sam had as she walked towards Tucker's. She stopped short and changed her direction. Should she even go to Tucker's? Even though Tucker had never come clean about it, Sam was positive he harbored a huge crush on his best friend's older sister. He wouldn't exactly take the news well that Sam had just shot that sister.

Social sacrifice was what Ezekial had described it as and she was beginning to fully realize this. She had always thought practicing goth culture was enough of a social sacrifice but she was on a whole other level now. It was no secret who had done it so she knew she would be arrested sooner or later, read her Miranda rights, assigned a public attorney if he parents didn't hire one, and face a trial. She supposed she could just do a plea and be done with it. Would she be tried as an adult? She really hadn't thought beyond the actual act itself, up until she had shot Jazz she wasn't sure if she would actually go through with it. She probably should have thought a little more before doing it but at the end of the day, Danny had to have known it was her and on purpose otherwise she couldn't shake Carolyn out of him.

She found herself at the room in the motel she was still paying for. She wondered how long it would take them to find her. Should she run? This was prison she might be going to but it was female prison which seemed very different from a male's prison in the United States. Most females didn't really seem overly concerned with sexuality and stuff of that sort that tripped out some of the males. Probably structured but nastier food than the schools she was sure and disgusting showers. Her biggest concern would be health related for sure. A figure began to flicker and materialize in front of her, a sad but serene smile on his face.

"Hi, Sam," Ezekial greeted her.

Sam shook her head, not wanting to fake pleasantries. "Did it work?"

"It seems to be," Ezekial pursed his lips. "We won't know for sure for a little bit..."

**-Ω-**

Carolyn could feel her grasp not just slipping but being wretched from her. That girl Sam went and did something she never would have guessed. Carolyn supposed she should have figured it would come to this since Sam was her niece by blood even if she had never acknowledged that link. Carolyn felt a bit of pride through the frustration but mostly frustration because Danny was sure not going to go quietly while seeing his sister laid out on the basement floor, blood spilling out, Sam standing nearby with the smoking gun.

She had just managed to keep a slight grasp as Danny had screamed shrilly when she first entered the basement and the scene filled her vision. It was the only thing Danny was seeing. The scream bounced around his mind and the pure anguish in it was palpable. It was the only thought, the only scene Danny could see or think of. The snow that had encompassed him wasn't just shaking but melting much faster than she could have predicted. Her hold was slipping and fast, none of the powers she'd been cursed with in her afterlife were working in her favor. She couldn't create a scene to fool Danny to slip into another reality. She had been able to so easily earlier, she had become too comfortable in her hold. She hadn't expected Sam to attempt anything further, after all Carolyn had won. Or she thought she had. Still, she wasn't going to to without a fight. She had come this far.

Danny couldn't see much but white and he could feel cold everywhere. Why was he under so much snow?  _What the hell,_  he thought, clawing desperately at the snow. What had happened? Why had Sam shot Jazz?  _WHY?_  That was all he could see, all he could think. As if that wasn't horrific enough, Sam had then aimed to shoot his own mother! What the hell had gotten into her? Why would she have done that? Had she actually shot his mother? He could hear her screaming and yelling through tears. He _had_ to see his sister, he _had_ to see his mother! He had to _help_ them!

He could see light ahead- the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel some would say. Panic, pure panic was engulfing him as the desperate need to  _know_  if his sister and mother were okay overtook him. Beyond the wild panic and need to know, another emotion begin to prick at the back of his mind; guilt. It was him who was friends with Sam, he was the reason she'd be at his house and, ultimately, that meant he was the reason they were in this mess.

He felt another presence pulling at his mind, trying to misdirect his thoughts but he wouldn't be distracted by that, not with Jazz several feet from him, blood seemingly everywhere. His mother was on the other side of Jazz and it looked like she was okay; she was bleeding, too, but not nearly as much as Jazz. He knelt wordlessly by his sister, listening to his mother's heart-wrenching pleas for her to hang on and that help was on the way. Jazz's breath was so shallow and labored, Danny realized, tears welling up in his eyes at the sight. Her eyes were unfocused and her main focus just seemed to be forcing herself to breathe. "Jazz," he whispered, finding her hand and holding it, feeling utterly helpless; his mother was already plugging the wound with a desperation Danny had never witnessed and he felt it himself as he stared down at his sister, willing her to be okay. Jazz's eyes snapped over to him when she heard his voice and there was something in her eyes he couldn't place.

"Is-is…it…y-you?" she struggled to get out with great effort, gasping every other second and Danny could only squeeze her hand harder, heart breaking in two at the sight of Jazz unable to string together a simple sentence.

"Yes, it's me, of course," he assured her and she smiled. Danny thought he might cry at the thought of his sister trying to comfort him right now when she was the one who was struggling to stay alive. He felt that other presence again but was able to shove it away, nothing able to distract him from the sight of his dying sister and frantic mother. Carolyn found herself quickly being buried in the snow she had once buried him in and she was sure he wasn't even trying; Danny's mind was so overwhelmed, he was almost effortlessly pushing away her attempts at luring him into another reality. His only interest was in _this_ reality and if his sister would survive.

Carolyn's screams of frustration and anger weren't audible in his mind over his own pained screams of anguish and horror, the sight of Sam standing over his sister with a gun flashing repeatedly throughout his mind's eye. The image of Sam pointing a gun at his mother also flashing through his mind's eye, making it impossible for any of Carolyn's tricks to work as nothing she offered could hold a candle to the horrible reality he found himself in now. Danny himself didn't understand what the nagging thing in his mind was but he just knew he couldn't afford to pay it any attention or be distracted by his thoughts or delusions or whatever they were; right now, he simply didn't care because the only thing that mattered was his sister and getting her help.

There was commotion upstairs and suddenly there were EMTs in the basement and people checking Jazz over, yelling stuff that Danny had only ever heard in movies or drama shows that involved medical personnel. Someone was quickly patching Jazz up while someone else was preparing a stretcher and another person in uniform was talking to Jack Fenton, and Maddie was pushing away the EMT that was inspecting her arm, her one and only concern her daughter.

Danny noticed an EMT near him, saying something about shock and he was sure there was a flashlight in his eyes, but Danny was also pushing the EMT out of his way because they were putting his sister on a stretcher and there were way more people around her and some were sounding rather concerned and Danny was desperately wishing he'd wake up and be in that hotel room he could dimly remember because Jazz was always there, talking to him and calming him down and just being a reassuring presence. He wanted that so badly now. Instead, he could only numbly follow his parents as Jazz was loaded into an ambulance with his mother crawling in after and his dad was saying something about how they would drive and Danny wondered how on earth his father was in any condition to drive. His dad must have been okay enough because somehow they made it to the hospital and found Maddie outside in the halls near the Operation Rooms.

She greeted them with uncertainty and concern. Danny took note that his mother had a bandage on her arm, so somebody must have taken care of that. Maddie paced the hall while explaining that Jazz was in surgery but the doctors hadn't given her the best odds and that there might be a chance that Jazz wouldn't make it out of the surgery and Danny felt his whole body stiffen at the thought and Carolyn felt herself buried deeper in the snow.

It would be a miracle if she could reverse all this. All her hard work gone just like that. Still, she never would have guessed that Sam would actually shoot Jazz. The idea was ludicrous to her, it still was even though it had actually happened. She could feel Danny's mind almost cave in on itself with the utter panic he was experiencing due to his sister's unfortunate condition. Danny stared at his mother as if she was speaking a foreign language. What did she mean Jazz might not "make it out?" He dropped into a chair in utter disbelief. His sister had to make it out, she just had to.

Danny wasn't sure how long they waited there in that room, his mother weeping, his father not hiding his tears, and Danny was sure he was crying himself even as he shot off a desperate text to Tucker, informing him what Sam had done and that Jazz was in surgery and they were waiting to find out more. Danny didn't know if it had been hours that they'd been in there, he just knew his stomach grumbled with hunger pains, but nothing prepared him for when he saw the doctors walk towards his family, his stomach dropping, hunger pains forgotten. He knew, he knew right away by the looks on their faces, that Jazz was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N So what –is-up with Danny? Danny dolls to reviewer (commenters?)


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